


Burden to Bear

by yupimgross



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Underfell, BDSM, M/M, Monster Heat, Skeleton Heat, Skeleton Pregnancy, Tentacles, Underfell Papyrus, Underfell Sans, skelepreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-05-22 19:14:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 43
Words: 113,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6091228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yupimgross/pseuds/yupimgross
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Underfell brothers explore their relationship as a series of events make big changes for them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Underfell is a dark place.

The cave systems that the banished monsters called home rarely let in adequate light. It was a wonder anything could survive here, yet, that’s what the creatures of this nearly uninhabitable place did: _survive._

Papyrus was a survivor. His battle-riddled bones were testament to his strength, his greatness, his will to survive. To those not used to the harsh reality of this place, the darkness would be suffocating. But, to those raised in this land the darkness was both a detriment and a boon. It could be used to help one ambush an enemy or unsuspecting victim. Though you never knew whether you were going to be the hunter or prey.

Normally, he blended in well with his surroundings. His dark attire helped him melt into the shadow and his skeletal frame could easily be mistaken for one of the many scrawny trees and gnarled branches of the woodland. But not today. Even with extra layers, his soul gave off a soft red light.

He was in heat.

In a lit room it might not have been noticeable, but out here in the woods… Papyrus checked over his shoulder once more, leery of anyone trying to sneak up on him. He huffed to himself angrily. He was practically a beacon crying out for someone to take him. He wasn’t particularly worried about anyone managing to do that though, he’d had to deal with monsters before while he was in heat. If anything it was merely a nuisance. It made checking his puzzles and his sentry duties all the more tedious.

Smaller and weaker monsters knew better than to try messing with him. He barely took notice as a couple darted away from him once his light drew close. After all, monster heat was a way to assert dominance. Those who were weak were ravaged by the strong when their heat took them over. It was one of the few ways the monsters interacted. It was an accepted part of life, if you were strong you were able to hold your own, and if not-

A slight snap made Papyrus whirl on his heel, a magic long-bone springing to life in his grasp. He brought it up just in time as a large dog-monster crashed into him. Slobbering jowls and gnashing teeth were lit hellishly by his red glow, its dark eyes trained upon his light like a moth to the flame. Grunting from the force of the onslaught, Papyrus shifted his stance, making it so that his opponent’s weight made them slide away. The dog creature bounded off into the dark once more with an angry growl, disappearing from view. One hand glowing red with prepared magic, and the other still holding his weapon at the ready, he snarled, “COME ON, MUTT! YOU WANT TO FUCK WITH ME? I’LL MAKE YOU WISH YOU WERE NEVER BORN!” His eyes darted around the darkness, he shifted his body, trying to use his burning soul to help him see. He grit his teeth angrily, hating every goddamn minute of this whole stupid fucking thing.

A flicker of movement in the corner of his eye was all the warning he had before the Greater Dog smashed into him. Slathering jaws panted loudly above him as his body was pinned by the stinking dog beast. Papyrus howled in anger as the beast began grinding its hips against him and lumbering paws scraped at his belt. “GET OFF ME!” Papyrus screamed as he wriggled beneath his adversary’s great weight. If he could just get one hand free…

He heard a loud rip, and felt a grotesque wetness against his bare pelvis. Filled with a whole new kind of rage, he thrashed madly. “I’M NOT GOING TO SUCCUMB TO YOU,” With a great heave of his shoulder his hand came free. “YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!” An enormous surge of magic erupted from his palm as he sent sharp bones shooting up from the ground. A few impaled themselves into the hide of the Greater Dog making it scream in pain. As it reared back from the attack, Papyrus scooted himself out from under the monster and smacked it harshly across the face with his long-bone. With a whine, the dog bounded away into the darkness to lick its wounds.

Papyrus panted heavily, well-aware of the audience his spectacle had gained. They were sizing him up, trying to decide if he had been weakened enough for them to maybe have a chance. He raised himself up and cast a challenging glare into the darkness. The eyes all but vanished from sight accompanied by the sounds of scurrying.

Once he was certain he was alone, he sighed heavily. Now he was going to have to fix his pants.


	2. Chapter 2

Bone-tired, Papyrus slammed the door to their dreary home shut behind him. He walked into the kitchen not even bothering to talk to Sans, who was lazing on the couch as-per-usual. He opened the fridge to find - surprise, surprise - nothing.

With an exasperated sigh, he stood and pinched the middle of his brow bone. “SANS! Couldn’t you _at least_ get groceries?” He didn’t even need to look at Sans to know he was rolling his eyes.

“heh. not like _I_ need them.” Sans snarked, “i just eat at Grillby’s.”

Papyrus rounded and stormed into the living room. “I’M NOT IN THE MOOD FOR YOUR SHIT, SANS.”

Sans’ eyes widened in surprise as he saw Papyrus’ ripped pants and armor. A shit-eating grin wormed its way onto his sweaty face as he caught sight of his brother’s glowing soul. “i’ll bet ya aren’t, boss. you’re probably in the mood for something else though-”

Papyrus wrenched him up off the couch by his hoodie, bringing him eye-to-eye. “WHY YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE SHIT!” He tightened his grip on his brother’s hood, causing it to pull uncomfortably tight around his neck. “DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I’VE DONE FOR YOU? I’M THE ONE WHO GUARDS YOU WHEN YOU’RE IN HEAT YOU FUCKING WASTE OF LIFE!” Sans gagged in his grasp, his hands clawing at his gloves. “WHO’S THE ONE THAT KEEPS THAT MOTHERFUCKER, GRILLBY, FROM OUTRIGHT RAVAGING YOU, HUH? WHO’S THE ONE WHO WATCHES OUT FOR YOU AND PROTECTS YOU?”

Sans’ eyelids were begining to droop, his clawing growing weaker.

Papyrus sighed and dropped his older brother onto the couch.

Sans gasped loudly and clenched at his throat, he began to cough loudly.

Papyrus scrunched his nasal ridge in disgust. “I’m going to go wash up.” He turned and left his brother to recover.

 

* * *

 

Sans slumped into the couch with a final calming breath. His fucking head was killing him after that whole ordeal with his brother. The guy couldn’t take a joke. Though, he suppose he did kind of ask for it. Papyrus had looked pretty shaken up when he got home. He thought back on his bro’s ripped armor and winced. That had looked kinda painful…

He shook the feeling of guilt down. “whatever, he’s an asshole anyways.” Sans mumbled as he pulled a bottle of mustard out of his secret stash between the couch cushions and took a swig of the tangy, sour-sweet condiment. Though he tried to drown out the guilty feeling, it wouldn’t leave. Papyrus’ words kept ringing in his head. It was true, Papyrus _did_ keep him safe. Sans was not a tough monster. He was a weakling, a whelp, a runt. By all rights he shouldn’t be alive considering he had only 1 hp. The only reason he was alive was because of Papyrus. He chugged some more mustard, trying to get the bitter taste of incompetence out of his mouth.

He should have known better than to say something about his heat.

It was such a strange thing, heat. Stronger monsters had their way with weaker monsters, heat being the only way for one to track down the other. But Sans was sheltered from that. He’d never been subjected to the utter feeling of helplessness most monsters felt when they entered heat, he never felt fear.

In fact, he _enjoyed_ his heat.

Because when he was in heat, Papyrus helped him. Sure, technically it was a dominant thing. Papyrus was stronger and he took the weaker monster, which was him. But, Papyrus didn’t hurt him, unless he wanted him to.

It was like a game they had.

If things got too rough, he even had a special word to let Papyrus know: Blue. Sans knew he should feel humiliated by being taken by his brother, but he just didn’t feel that way. The things Papyrus did to him felt…good. He and Papyrus would even take up this little game of theirs _outside of heat._ Sans loved it and Papyrus knew he loved it. It disgusted his brother of course, but Sans didn’t care. If Papyrus was upset and needed an outlet, he was more than willing.

A shiver went down his spine as he remembered some of the things they did when they played their game. Papyrus tying him up, biting his bones, raking his claws down his spine, making him beg, making him admit how disgusting he was. Sans groaned aloud. He lazily glanced at his empty bottle of mustard. Woah, when had he downed that? His attention shifted to a light glow that seemed to emanate from beneath his shirt…and his shorts.

He huffed angrily. Now he’d done it. He’d gotten himself all riled up, and Papyrus definitely wasn’t going to help him out right now. He tried to focus his attention back to the television, but all that was ever on was that freak star-wannabe, Mettaton. With an angry growl he looked over to the bathroom door to see that it was still shut. He looked down at the glow in his pants thoughtfully. His bro should be a while cleaning up.

He snaked a bony hand under his shorts, easily finding his thick, stout ecto-cock. He sighed as he ran his phalanges along its length. It’d been a long time since he had had time to himself like this. As he worked his cock, memories of past exploits came to mind. One of his favorites was when Papyrus had him bound, tied up to the sides of the bed. Nothing new, Papyrus liked him tied up so he would, “Keep his grimy hands off of him.” What was special about this time was that for some reason or another, Papyrus had actually decided to touch his cock. He whimpered at the memory. Feeling Papyrus’ gloved hands stroking his length, roughly digging in to the magic, trying to get him off as quickly as he could so he could be done with him. “ah-a.” Sans breathed, swirling his thumb around the head of his cock. While the memory was nice, he really longed that Papyrus would do something else to him. Scrunching his brow in concentration, he imagined Papyrus in between his legs, his breath hot against his dick. Precum nearly shot from his cock at the thought of Papyrus using his long red tongue on his cock instead of on his bones. He bit his knuckle to stifle a whimper as he imagined Papyrus taking him into his mouth, steely eyes trained on him. Sweat beaded his forehead, he felt so close. Red tongue snaking out from his mouth as he pulled back, its long length curling around his cock. “P-Papyrus-”

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!”

Sans nearly jumped out of his clothes as his eyes shot open to see Papyrus standing across the room.

He looked absolutely dumbfounded.

Sans sheepishly took his hand out from his pants. His eyes darted away from his brother’s prying leer. “what’s it to ya?” He flinched as Papyrus made quick work of striding across the room to suddenly tower over him. “h-hey! wait!” Papyrus yanked the hand that he had previously removed from his pants up so he could see it. Sans was, quite literally, caught red-handed.

Papyrus raised a brow at him. “Really, Sans? Are you touching…yourself?”

Sans didn’t want to meet his gaze. He knew it was pathetic. He couldn’t help it. Especially not since his brother was in heat. Speaking of heat… He glanced at Papyrus’ chest, where he could swear it had gotten brighter. He looked up to see that Papyrus was still examining his hand. Derision was plain on his face, but he could also see a light redness crossing his cheekbones.

Papyrus seemed to snap out of some sort of trance, and looked down at Sans. The flush immediately left his face as he caught Sans watching him. “Disgusting”, he spat down at him before releasing his hand. Sans watched as the skeleton stomped off to his room and slammed the door shut.

Papyrus’ voice was definitely huskier than normal.

 

* * *

 

He slammed the door shut behind him.

Heavy breaths made his ribcage rise and fall erratically. His soul was definitely getting brighter. It pounded in his chest. “What the fuck?” Papyrus breathed. He felt ragged. And it certainly wasn’t because of the spat he’d been in earlier.

His soul seemed to hum as he remembered catching his brother on the couch, one hand in his pants, stroking the glowing ecto-cock in his shorts. A jolt ran through him, starting from his chest and shooting outwards to resonate in his pelvis.

He had never experienced anything like this before. His heat was normally a nuisance and nothing more, something that attracted assholes to him, which he then proceeded to kick the shit out of. His heat would end as quietly as it began, the light would dull to its normal state and he could go back to his routine. “Nyeh heh… This is ridiculous.” Placing a hand to his head, he decided it would probably be best to just head to bed. This was just a freakish heat. A fluke.

He got into bed, and fully expected sleep to come easily after the exhausting day he’d had…but it proved to be a difficult task. He tossed and turned, the light from his soul was unrelentingly bright, and its constant humming did not help. The hum seemed to become more and more concentrated in his pelvis. It was extremely uncomfortable.

With an angry growl he tore the covers off and, sure enough, a bright red glow was lighting his black night pants. Why must everything be so difficult? Concentrating, he willed his magic to ebb away from his pelvis and back to his soul.

It did not work.

Papyrus flopped back onto his bed with a grunt. “Shit.” He threw an arm over his eye sockets, thinking maybe if he calmed himself then his magic would calm. He breathed deeply, trying to let himself sink into a state of ease. After what felt like an eternity, he peeked an eye out to see that his pants were still glowing.

A thought crossed his mind in that moment. A horrible, terrible thought. A tentative hand snaked its way towards the band of his pants. “This is pathetic.” He scolded himself, yet, his hand went beneath his pants all the same. He clenched his teeth together with an audible clack as his fingers danced against his pelvis. “This is disgusting.” He brushed his fingers along the curve of his Illiac crest, the gentlest motion causing sparks of pleasure. Papyrus hated this. He hated everything.

But, holy fuck, this felt good.

He sighed and let his eyes fall shut as he brushed across his pelvic arch. He wondered briefly if this was how Sans felt when he was in heat. He’d never understood why Sans enjoyed the things he did to him. It had never made sense before. “Ahh…” A soft sound escaped as he rubbed along the brim of his pelvis. He could feel his magic beginning to pool, calling up his cock-

“well, well, well.”

Papyrus’ eyes shot open with shock as he looked over to see Sans leaning in the doorway.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **SPOILER ALERT:**  
>  LOOK AT THIS AMAZING FANART!  
> <http://yupimgross.tumblr.com/post/140566098121/small-sans-yupimgross-audible-winking-in-your>  
> by the incredible small-sans!

Sans was heading up the stairs, ready to head off to bed when he smelled it. A rich, musky scent that seemed to waft from his brother’s room. He swore the fucking smell went straight to his groin. Magic coursed through his bones like nothing he’d ever felt before.

His brother was in one hell of a heat.

At first, he stood by the door, enamored with the scent. He trailed his hands along his ribs, soaking in the reaction it was having on him. But then, he had a thought. Why not try to help Papyrus with his heat?

He scoffed at himself. That was basically a suicide wish. But, maybe he could take a quick peek, maybe get a stronger whiff of that intoxicating smell…

Sans creaked the door open silently, just a crack. Everything in the room was dark, all except for the red glow of his brother’s magic. He nearly choked on his own breath at what he saw. He blinked a couple times, trying to see if it was a trick of the light, but no, it was unmistakable what he was seeing: Papyrus on his bed with a hand in his pants.

Oh, this was rich. With a devilish grin he snickered under his breath. Papyrus, playing with himself. Had hell frozen over? He couldn’t wait to tease the asshat tomorrow-

“Ahh…” Suddenly, a low, drawn-out moan escaped from his brother.

Holy fuck.

His eyes became glued to the hand working in his pants, and the red glow that kept getting brighter. Tangy sweet musk was so heavy in the air you were likely to choke on it. Sans felt like his soul had been soaked in propane and lit on fire. He groaned under his breath, he could just feel the beginnings of his cock forming. He was going to do something incredibly, unbelievably, stupendously stupid. He really couldn’t help it. With a nervous chuckle, he opened the door and leaned on the frame. “well, well, well.”

Understandably, Papyrus freaked the fuck out. His eyes shot open, a murderous glare nearly flaming from his sockets. “SANS! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM!” Taking the hand from his pants to cover himself, Papyrus used his other hand to shoot a bone out at him.

Sans dodged the attack easily, barely flinching as it landed in the wall behind him with a deadly  _thwack_. “looks like I caught you _red-handed!_ ”

Papyrus screeched in rage as Sans howled with laughter at his ironic pun. “I’M GOING TO KILL YOU, SANS! HOW FUCKING DARE YOU-“

Sans cut Papyrus off as he teleported to just beside the bed. “aww, c’mon, boss. why don’t you take it easy for once?” A Cheshire grin stretched onto his face. Papyrus was so flustered it was ridiculous. His eyes were bugging out in that stupid way that he hated, like big fucking googly eyes. Sans knew he was asking for it, and laughing at him only made Papyrus lose his shit even more.

 

* * *

 

Papyrus felt his cheekbones blaze in anger. “YOU HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE HOW DEEP OF SHIT YOU’RE IN!” As he raised his hand to summon an onslaught of bones, something caught him. His eyesockets narrowed at what appeared to be a red tentacle wrapped about his wrist. “What the fuck-” Before he could react, another appendage grabbed hold of his other hand, while two more wrapped about his ankles.

All the while, Sans stood at the foot of the bed, grinning his toothy smile.

Papyrus snapped out of his daze when he realized what was going on. He struggled against the magic tentacles, fully expecting them to snap under his might. Instead, they tightened their grip as they maneuvered him back down onto the bed. He felt a sudden wave of panic. Sans had tried similar shit when he would help him with his heat, summoning tentacles, various genitalia. They were all weak, and he easily swatted any unwanted attention away. These were very different. He tried once again to struggle out of the tentacles’ grip, but they would not budge. “What?!”

“i’ve been practicing.” He shrugged. “see? i’m not so lazy after all.”

Papyrus’ eyes locked onto Sans, who remained where he was at the foot of the bed, enjoying his attempts. “RELEASE ME YOU WHELP!”

Sans placed a finger to his chin in mock contemplation before replying, “nah. I don’t think I will, boss.” The smaller skeleton clambered up onto the bed, coming to a stop between his legs.

Papyrus shifted nervously as Sans began to run his hands along his legs, starting from his shins, dragging them up towards his hips. He struggled harder against his bonds, hoping for any weakness in the magic, any at all. A shock ran up his spine as he felt a hand light on his pelvis. “Ha-!” The younger skeleton bit off the gasp that left his mouth unbidden. His cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “SANS, I SWEAR TO GOD, I-IF YOU DON’T STOP-”

“shut up, Pap.”

Before he could protest further, another appendage materialized and slapped his mouth shut. Sweat beaded his forehead as he was left completely at the other’s disposal. He growled around the tentacle, giving Sans the deadliest glare he could muster.

“calm down. i’m not gonna hurt ya.” He trailed his hands upwards, his fingers delicately feeling over the sensitive ribs that lie beneath his shirt. He leaned in and licked the crook of his neck. The younger skeleton went rigid as a board and screeched an ungodly slew of muffled threats. Sans paid him no mind. He planted skeletal kisses to his neck, a sweet gesture that soon turned devilish as he bit down on his collar bone. His bones being so sensitive from the heat made the bite feel more like a stab. Sans, hearing his brother’s pained cry, ran his tongue over the bite apologetically. “heh. forgot you were so sans-itive.” He grinned up at his brother, who just groaned angrily.

With a flick of his wrist, a tentacle appeared and ripped Papyrus’ black night shirt up the middle. Papyrus made a sound of surprise and shivered at the sudden exposure. “heh. i’ve never seen you without your armor…” Papyrus watched as Sans traced the scars and fractures that crisscrossed his bones. It was strangely endearing, the way he looked at his body, the way he caressed him. “i know you’ve been through a lot.” He turned his attention to the newest addition to Pap’s scar collection, a long, shallow cut that raked from his sternum to the top of his pelvis. A gift from the mutt that had tried to shag him earlier. Papyrus swallowed as Sans looked up at him with his red, glowing eyes. “don’t worry. i’m gonna make ya feel good, Pap.” He looked so eager, so ready to please him. Sans brought his face close to his ribcage, his breath already sending shivers up his spine. He was so sensitive, Papyrus actually felt a small stab of apprehension as he saw that terrible grin grow on his brother’s face. All of this did feel good – of course, he’d never admit it – but he still didn’t like this, it made him feel too exposed, too dependent, too vulnerable.

Sans held his gaze for a long moment before running his broad tongue along the slash in his ribs.

Papyrus cried out, the tentacle wrapped about his mouth preventing him from cursing like he wanted to.  The hot tongue prodding at his fresh wound hurt, but it felt good too. His head swam from the conflicting sensations. He needed a minute to collect himself. This was all happening so fast. But Sans kept going, licking along his ribs, delving in between, tracing the ridges between each one. Papyrus slowly melted under his touch, his body so pent up with magic it was painful. “Mmnn.” He loosed a long held-back moan, his arms going slack in their restraints.

“heh heh. that’s right. just relax, boss.” Sans licked the spittle from his teeth, and sat back on his haunches. His eyes roamed about his frame, a smug grin stretching across his skull. “ya know ya look so good like that, fucking sexy as hell.” Ignoring Papyrus’ lame growl of protest, he wrapped a hand around his brother’s spine.

And damn if that didn’t feel amazing. Papyrus’ mind felt like it was fogging up, stars were blinking in his vision as Sans set a rhythm. His back arched off the bed, allowing the hand pleasuring him to have easier access. Sans took advantage of his compliance and pumped his spine harder, twisting his hand every now and then to elicit a lewd sound for his enjoyment. Papyrus was a hot mess by this point. He had given up all hope of retaining his dignity. He was so far gone, he was actually enjoying this. Though he wasn’t sure how much more torture he could take. Pleasure was shooting down his spine to his groin in quick succession, his very soul was aching and shivering behind his ribcage.

He trained his eyes back on to Sans, the older skeleton had slowed his fast-paced jerking to a languid, squeezing motion. His other hand was busy tracing the various markings on his bones. He had never seen Sans so focused on anything before. He was really trying – no, he was succeeding, in pleasuring him. He was actually doing something fucking right. And Papyrus felt…he felt…proud? The feeling was unexpected to say the least and not one he expected to ever associate with Sans.

He had never been taken during his heat. Not once. It was a mark of pride he held. It proved to all the other monsters that he was strong, that he was at the top of the food chain, that he was not to be fucked with. And out of all the monsters to actually capture him, to actually be strong enough to hold him down, to take him, it was his own brother?

His soul pounded against his chest, screaming for something more than just teasing.

 

* * *

 

Sans was enjoying this WAY more than he thought he would. He couldn’t keep the grin off his face. Seeing his brother such a moaning, panting wreak was better than anything he could have imagined. He slowed his jerking movements around Papyrus’ spine. He ran his other hand along his ribs, his phalanges lightly scraping against the harsh texture of his brother’s old scars. He wanted to savor every little bit of this. He wanted to remember every little fucking mark. Every fucking sound he made. Cause this probably would never happen again.

When he looked up from his mesmerized prodding, he felt his cheeks flush brightly at the look Papyrus was giving him. “oh, god…” His breath hitched in his throat. Those steely eyes. Even with him tied up as he was, even with him covered in sweat and so completely at his will, he looked fearsome and powerful. He retracted the tentacle from the larger skeleton’s mouth, and before the asshole could say a word, he ran his tongue up his spine. The sound was fucking music.

“Ahah! Ah…S-Sans!”

He worked his mouth up and down the individual vertebrae, every little noise above him egging him on. Sans moaned as he shifted his gaze back up. Sweat beaded from Papyrus’ skull, his eyes drooping in ecstasy, and his mouth agape with panting breaths. “f-fuck, Papyrus.”

“Sans, I-I…” He stopped mid-sentence as his face scrunched in anger.

Sans had a feeling he knew what Papyrus wanted. He could practically feel the magic buzzing around his pelvis. He grinned and sat up to look him dead in the eye. “you…what?”

“I-I need you t-to touch lower.”

Sans, being the little shit he is, placed his hands on both of his femurs, running them up and down the inside-

It did not go over well with Papyrus. “SANS! F-FUCK! FOR FUCKS SAKE, TOUCH MY GODDAMN PELVIS!” Papyrus covered Sans in a spray of spittle from yelling. Tears were welling up in the corners of his eyes, he was shaking uncontrollably beneath him. “YOU’RE KILLING ME!”

Finally feeling like he’d been a big enough asshole, Sans conjured a tentacle and ripped the pants clear off Papyrus. His pelvis was glowing a molten red, though from lack of stimulation, nothing had formed. Oh, he would be fixing that real soon. He held his brother’s gaze as he ran two fingers into his pelvic cavity. The accompanying gasping moan was fucking amazing. He pumped them in and out, lavishing in the electric tingle of raw magic. The magic that had been buzzing through his pelvis finally began to form, and Sans grinned as a delicious red pussy came into fruition around his digits. He pulled them from the wet cavity and sucked them into his mouth eagerly. Papyrus hissed something or other, Sans wasn’t really paying attention. The only thing on his mind was eating the hell out of this cunt. 

Sans brought his face down and ran a long, slow lick through the red folds. “Aaa! Ah! Mm!” Papyrus jerked his hips below him as he pulled his hips closer, sucking and licking like he was dying of thirst. The hoarse groans and moans, along with the tangy sweetness of Papyrus’ pussy made Sans’ lust fucking skyrocket. He ran a hand between his own legs, realizing that they were just soaked with his precum. Sans groaned and yanked his shorts off, opting to jack himself as he continued eating. Papyrus’ movements sped up, his hips grinding into him, the sounds becoming more and more desperate. He was close.

“Nngh, hah, S-Sans. Ah!” Sans sucked hard on his clit, making Papyrus’ eyes roll back into his head, and just when he thought he was about to release, Sans pulled back.

“What? WHAT?!” Papyrus roared, “SANS, YOU MOTHERFU-” He stopped dead when he saw just why Sans had stopped. “W-wait, Sans!”

Sans pressed his member inside of Papyrus, the walls of his vagina were so slick, he accidentally nearly slid all the way to the hilt. Papyrus made a choking sound, his arms tearing at his restraints. He ground his teeth together, a river of expletives pouring from his mouth, “S-shit. Fuck. Shit fuck. What the hell, Sans. What the fuck. Fuck.”

“ah, fuck! s-sorry…” The smaller skeleton waited for the skeleton above him to calm down. God, his pussy felt fucking amazing. He wanted nothing more than to just ravage him, but seeing how he kinda put him through all this… “y-you ok, bro?” He rubbed his thumbs in comforting circles on the inside of his femurs. He suddenly felt like he might have gone too far.

After a few seconds to regain himself, Papyrus gave a humorless laugh, “Nyeh heh heh. You’re asking me that _now?_ ” When Sans shrugged sheepishly, he answered him, “I-I’m fine. J-just go slow. Should be easy for you, lazy-ass.”

Sans laughed, glad that his brother wasn’t as pissed off anymore. “i’ll take that as a compliment.” So he began, setting the pace at his own speed. He rocked his hips into Papyrus, each thrust driving deeply into his cunt. Before long Papyrus wasn’t the only one moaning. “ah, Pap…why’re you so fucking good.” He shifted himself, trying to bring Papyrus’ hips into his lap, but no matter what he did, he just could not seem to get the right angle. He groaned in frustration, he was starting to tire out fast.

“Sans, release me.”

The smaller skeleton looked up at his younger brother in confusion. “What?”

Papyrus held him with that calculated gaze Sans loved so well. “You’re getting tired. Let me take over.” Papyrus must have seen the apprehension he felt, because he growled in exasperation. “I want to be _finished._ You’re taking too goddamn long. I’m not going anywhere until I can get rid of this.” He jerked his chin at his still-blazing soul. “If you can’t finish the fucking job, I will.”

“y-you promise not to hurt me?” Sans really was tired, and his cock was pulsing so uncomfortably. He wanted to cum, but he just didn’t have the stamina to keep going.

Papyrus clacked his teeth in momentary contemplation before he replied. “You’ve done quite well, I think. I see no need to punish you.”

Sans brows shot up in surprise. H-he had done well? He did good? Papyrus liked this? Papyrus approved of something he did? “r-really, bro?” His voice sounded thick to him, he just hoped Papyrus didn’t notice.

The skeleton below him rolled his eyes, “Yes, really. When have I ever lied to you?”

Carefully, he released the magic that held Papyrus captive.

“Finally.”

Sans nearly fell off the back of the bed as Papyrus shot forward. He cried out in fear, expecting his brother to actually kill him, but instead he found himself lying on his back on the bed. Before he could get his wits about him, Papyrus slammed down onto his cock. Sans screamed as the skeleton above him fucking wrecked him. “P-Papyrus! Pap!” He dug his fingers into the bed covers for dear life as his cock was squeezed intensely. Papyrus gave him no mercy as he panted above him, his fingers gripping at his ribs, harshly pumping and scraping them. Sans could barely contain himself, his soul beat against his chest, being driven to the brink by the harsher loving his brother was inflicting on him. Everything had become so fucking hot. “god-d. Pap.” His tongue lolled from his mouth as his vision went foggy. “ahn! shit! Papyrus!” Sans came hard, his hips bucking into Papyrus’ as he filled his pussy with his seed. Papyrus crushed his brother to his chest, riding out the feeling until he too, came. The walls of his cunt squeezed the goddamn life out of Sans’ cock. He screamed as a second, forced orgasm tore through him from overstimulation.

Sans went utterly limp as his brother shifted him so that the smaller skeleton was lying on top of his ribcage. They lay there breathing heavy, listening to each other’s soul pound loudly against their ribs. They were so close, he could feel his brother’s soul gripping onto his own, like two polarized magnets. He pulled himself tighter to his brother, feeling their ribs interlock. He shivered from the feeling, but it felt right. Papyrus laid a hand on the back of his ribcage, causing Sans to look up. Sans blushed as Papyrus regarded him. He felt really embarrassed all of a sudden. All this, touchy-feely shit. He made to get up, but the hand on his back held him in place.

“Are you really that big of an asshole? Fuck and leave?” Papyrus scolded. His tone was serious, though his eyes were distracted. He felt the digits on his back trail curiously along his spine, the movements slow, soothing away the tension.

Sans actually wasn’t sure what to say to that. With a careful smile, he gave a half-hearted chuckle, “heh. never figured you for the cuddling type, boss.” Sans would never admit it, but he was really enjoying this. Lying here with Papyrus, basking in his affectionate touches. He felt safe, calm, and happy. He could practically feel his soul singing with contentment.

Papyrus seemed to study him a moment, and then stopped his gentle petting. “Hmm, perhaps not. I wonder, though, are you?” Sans was going to reply when he felt the hand on his back move up to caress his cheek. “You certainly do look cuddly.”

He snorted, “heh heh heh! are you fucking serious?”

Papyrus tried to keep his serious face up, but it quickly devolved into a crooked grin. He laughed wholeheartedly, “Nyeh heh heh! You’re right. You’re too big of an ass to be the cuddling type!”

Sans grinned back, he hadn’t seen his brother in such a good mood in…well, ever. “fuck you!”

“You already did, prick.”

“cunt.”

“Fuckwad.”

Before Sans could say another word, Papyrus grabbed him by the chin and brought him into a clanking kiss.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you guys might want to read the chapter before taking a look at this link. Got it? Good.  
> Now then, this pic by the lovely [small-sans](http://small-sans.tumblr.com/) is LITERALLY what inspired me to write this fic! Take a look!  
> <http://small-sans.tumblr.com/post/139283461483/i-feel-bad-for-the-poor-bastard-that-got>

Papyrus woke with a groan.

He ached all over. He made to move his hand up to wipe the sleep from his eyes, but stopped when he saw the still-sleeping form of his brother. He was right where he’d left him, lying on his chest, his arms wrapped around him possessively. The small skeleton had slept soundly, no nightmares to wake them both up in the middle of the night. Perhaps he would need to engage Sans more often. It seemed to do them both good. He felt energized, despite the aches in his bones. He felt good, a warm sort of good. He actually wasn’t sure how to describe it.

With a sigh he gave up trying to place the feeling in his chest, and instead turned back to watching Sans breath. He stayed like that a moment, content…until he saw the clock.

“Shit!” Papyrus sat up suddenly, knocking Sans back onto the bed.

Sans landed in a heap with a groggy groan and fixed him with a glare, “what the hell, Papyrus?”

“Get up, lazyass! We overslept!” He strode over to his dresser and rummaged through the various articles of clothing therein. He had nothing to wear. His pants and armor from the previous night were torn. He growled at his own idiocy. If he hadn’t been screwing around he could have at least patched his armor. Nothing in his dresser was fit for guard duty. All he had were several sets of trousers and sweaters, a suit which he’d never worn, and a spare set of nightwear. “Fuck! Fuck!” Why the hell didn’t he have a set of spare armor?

Sans called out angrily from the bed. “call in sick.”

Papyrus screeched over his shoulder, “I’M NOT CALLING IN SICK WHEN IM NOT SICK!” Grabbing a pair of black trousers, he turned back to the bed. He kicked the side frame of it harshly, causing Sans to tumble out onto the floor. “GET UP AND GET DRESSED. IF I CATCH YOU ABSENT FROM YOUR SENTRY SO HELP ME-”

“alright! alright! shit…” Sans rubbed the back of his head, and lumbered out the door. He really didn’t want to be yelled at any more.

Papyrus didn’t give him another thought as he pulled the pants on and-

“Huh.” Papyrus tugged at his pants. They were normally quite snug but…it seemed like they were a bit…tighter than normal? That was impossible, monster food was hard to get fat off of…unless you ate tons of it like a certain stout skeleton. Papyrus barely ate anything. He was picky, and the fact that they never had food in the house only made his eating habits worse. Chalking it up to one too many washes, Papyrus went back to his dresser to pull out the darkest sweater he had, dark gray with black accents, and decided to call it good enough. The outfit might offer next to no protection, but at least it would help him blend into the surroundings.

He pulled the garment over top of his head and noticed something strange. His sockets widened as he saw that the clothing was slightly distended in his middle. “What the hell?” He ran a hand down his front, surprised to feel the presence of magic under his fingertips. Not caring that he was late anymore, he stalked over to the tall, narrow mirror he kept propped against the far wall.

Blowing some of the dust off, he examined himself in the glass. Turning to the side, yes, he could see a slight bulge. “What…?” He pulled the hem of his shirt up and over the anomaly, and gasped.

He didn’t believe what he was seeing.

The mirror showed a small, glowing light. A soul. A soul floating gently within a faint red magic barrier. He stood there, dumbfounded, staring in front of the mirror for what felt like ages. The sound of the front door slamming woke him from his stupor. Sans had just left.

“FUCK!” Papyrus screamed aloud to no one in particular. How did this happen? How _could_ this happen? He ran a hand over his skull. He had been in heat, sure, but sex for monsters was different than for non-magical creatures. Sex did not equal procreation. The only way for one to create a new monster was through a strong soul-bond.

Had he… Had he bonded with Sans?

His thoughts swirled in his mind, he felt sick. He would have known if their souls had interacted, right? He ran through his memories, stress building as he tried to piece together what had happened-

The small heart bobbed lightly in its magical womb. Papyrus stiffened, and turned his attention back to the present. He groaned, “Why must everything be so difficult?” He looked down at himself. Timidly, he reached his hand up and placed it on his belly. If his eyes weren’t deceiving him, the soul had just brightened at his touch. Warmth spread along his cheekbones. His own soul seemed to respond to the smaller one, a light red pulse coming from his chest.

He shook his head. Fuck. Fuck! FUCK! He needed to back up a second. He needed to think things through. He needed to not let his emotions get in the way.

Ok, so, what was he going to do? His brow knit in indecision. This world was harsh. Very harsh. Too harsh for a child. He had seen his fair share of tattered striped shirts in the snow. He shifted his hand so that it rested on the side of the magical casing. Children here were feral. They had to be. That was the only way to survive. Kill or be killed. His eyes trained on the soul floating just beneath his fingertips. This was no place for a child. He couldn’t care for a child. He already had to take care of Sans. That was a lot in and of itself. He let magic flow to his hand, an attack waiting and ready. Really, he would be granting mercy to this unfinished soul. This was no place to raise a child, and he was unfit to be a caretaker.

His breath caught in his throat. Being a skeleton, he didn’t have organs. He was basically nothing but bones and magic, if he just aimed correctly…

His attack died away.

He swallowed hard. “Fuck.” He croaked. What was he doing? “I-I can’t.” He sighed in defeat. Looking at himself in the mirror once more, he barely recognized the reflection. He always hated seeing himself without his armor. He was tall, skinny, and terribly lanky without the intimidating boots, gloves, and sharp shoulder paludrons. He really was a rather comical sight now, with the bulging belly. He brought a hand to his face, suddenly feeling very anxious. God, he was going to die, wasn’t he? There was no way he could keep other monsters from finding out that he was pregnant. There was no way he’d be able to defend himself on his own. He didn’t even _look_ intimidating. He had been a top dog for a long time, and there were plenty of monsters who would be more than happy at the chance of knocking him down. Should he hide? Run away?

“No.”

He stared his mirror-self dead in the eye. Taking a steadying breath, he proclaimed, “I am The Great Papyrus!” He kicked ass. He was a strong monster, if not one of the strongest. He could hold his fucking own. He had defended Sans all these years on his own, right? He had kept his brother and himself alive all on his own. He was mighty, he was powerful, he was great.

No one should fuck with him.

He placed a hand on his belly once more before pulling his shirt back down.

This was now his burden to bear.


	5. Chapter 5

Papyrus decided to meet up with the other guards. It was basically the end of the shift, and he was certain most of the others would be at their debriefing point. He knew he was taking a risk coming here. But he also knew that if he didn’t show up they would have come looking for him. And who knows what might happen if they suddenly show up at his house? No, he’d rather have control of the situation.

After maneuvering around the puzzles he had recalibrated just the other day, he arrived at the edge of the forest. Greater Dog and Doggo stood waiting on the others, looking thoroughly bored and ready to ditch work and go to Grillby’s. The first to notice his approach was Greater Dog, who whined low in his throat, clearly still sore from the beating Papyrus had dished him. Doggo chomped on his smoking bone absently, seeing Papyrus as he walked towards him. “Hey, bones. What’s with the getup?” He snickered at Papyrus’ expense. “Too cocky to wear your armor?”

“Shut up, Doggo. You know fucking well why my armor is…out of commission.” He shot Greater Dog a glare, to which the big dumb dog tucked his tail between his legs. Clearing his throat, he changed topic, “Ah, hem. Now I know that I was absent today, but I feel it is still my responsibility to check in with…” He trailed off as Doggo began cocking his head from one side and then the other, his eyes squinting at hm. “What’s your problem, mutt?”

Doggo walked towards him, his hands clenching and unclenching on the hilts of his blades.

Papyrus shifted his feet, his long-bone materializing in his hand. The other stopped suddenly, looking confused.

“Papyrus, stop moving for a second.” The canine squinted harder, his nose scrunching in concentration.

Papyrus stopped, though he did not put down his weapon.

Finally, Doggo reared back with a bark of surprise. “Papyrus! Did you _eat someone alive_?”

Greater Dog cautiously padded over, curious of what all the excitement was about. He sniffed at Papyrus, suddenly seeming very interested in a different scent than normal.

Papyrus felt his cheeks flush against his will. “NO, I DIDN’T EAT SOMEONE YOU IDIOT!” Greater Dog was practically a foot away, his nose twitching excitedly at Papyrus’ belly. Papyrus swatted at him, making the dog yelp and jump back out of his personal space.

“What’s going on here?” As if things weren’t going bad enough already, the last of the guards on duty arrived: Dogamy and Dogaressa.

Papyrus groaned angrily. He was about ready to just walk off at this point. “CAN WE GET BACK TO THE DEBRIEFING?”

The dog monsters were talking amongst themselves, trying to sort out why Papyrus would eat someone alive. He pinched his brow. He’d told them that he hadn’t eaten anyone. Why the hell would they think that – oh, oh no. They couldn’t see that he was…? He suddenly felt very self-conscious. They shouldn’t be able to tell, at least not yet, right? A bony hand flew up instinctively and placed itself protectively over the soul in his belly. This was not good.

Taking a deep breath, he composed himself. It was alright. He was a strong monster, they knew that. He had shown them his strength before. They wouldn’t dare try to…

“You’re pregnant?” Dogaressa raised a brow at him.

Papyrus visibly flinched from the jarring comment. All of the dog monsters cocked their heads to the side in interest. Shit. Despite his blunder he snorted derisively, hoping he could still play this off. “What the fuck are you talking about? Who the hell do you take me for?” He crossed his arms over his chest.

Greater Dog panted excitedly, his tongue lolling out. He barked something Papyrus didn’t understand to the group. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion as the pack turned to him. Doggo smirked widely, “That’s what’s moving. It’s your little hell-spawn, ain’t it, bones?”

A chill ran up his spine as he realized just how bad this situation was getting.

Greater Dog puffed up his chest, and barked something to the other dogs. They all howled with laughter, leaving Papyrus in the dark.

“So, you couldn’t keep the big guy’s paws off you?” Dogamy giggled, patting the large guard dog.

Papyrus stared mutely, he looked over the crowd, his anger burning inside his soul. Did they really think _Greater Dog_ had knocked him up? _That_ buffoon?!

Doggo sniffed, “You did a number on the poor pup, alright. But, uh, I think he won out, yeah?” He leaned against a nearby tree with a chuckle. “Well, in any case, it makes it easier to see you, bones.”

Dogaressa patted Greater Dog along with his mate. “Wow, bones. I never thought of all monsters, Greater Dog would be the one to finally snag you.” He smiled smugly, “When’s the pup due? Or…bundle of bones, I suppose?”

Papyrus grit his teeth.

Greater Dog grinned at him, his teeth flashing in the dull light. Emboldened, the dog monster strode forward, a low lusting growl reverberating in his thick chest.

“Woo!” Dogamy howled, “Don’t be too rough on him, pup!”

“Don’t let your bitch push you around, big guy!” Dogaressa joined in.

This had to be a bad dream. His nasal ridge scrunched in disgust as Greater Dog padded forward, fully intending on fucking him right here in front of everyone. _Like a dog._ As Greater Dog made to scoop him up into his lap, his disgusting dog-breath hit him full in the face. This was not a dream. “FUCK YOU!” He backhanded the sniveling wretch of a dog. The monster yelped in surprise, jumping away. “Do you honestly think you fucked me when you barely even touched me? You stupid mongrel, you have _no brains at all_.” He stood his ground as the other dog monsters gaped at him in surprise. He raised his voice, shaking with rage at his damaged pride. “AND AS FOR THE REST OF YOU, I’M DISAPPOINTED IN HOW EASILY YOU ALL WERE WILLING TO BELIEVE SUCH _BULLSHIT_!”

Doggo glanced at Greater Dog with a look of pity. “I kinda figured that was the case. Just wanted to see him kick you down a notch.” He tossed away the spent bone in his mouth, and pulled out another. “So, who got ya? Don’t lie, bones. Now that I really got a good look at it, you’re definitely carrying.”

“That’s none of your goddamn business-”

“Grillby?” Dogaressa raised a brow. “Everybody knows that guy has the hots for you.”

Papyrus was seething. “I SAID IT’S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!” Still, the dogs wouldn’t stop their incessant barking.

Doggo lit the new bone that hung off his lip. “It couldn’t be Undyne, could it? Last I heard she was shagging that egg-head Alphys.”

“No, Undyne and Alphys are a thing, apparently.” Dogaressa corrected Doggo. “Asgore, maybe?” He gave a sideways glance to Papyrus, as if trying to imagine how that would work.

“OH MY GOD! CAN YOU ALL SHUT THE FUCK UP AND-”

Dogamy, who had been quiet for some time, finally spoke. “Sans?”

Doggo and Dogaressa snapped their heads to Dogamy. “Sans?” “What?”

All three turned back to Papyrus, looking both surprised and amused at the prospect.

Oh, he was so pissed. His teeth grit so hard he was certain he had fractured something. “WELL IF WE’RE NOT GOING TO BE DEBRIEFING, THEN I THINK I’M JUST GOING TO LEAVE!” With a huff of indignation, he stomped off in the direction of Sans’ sentry station.

That fucker had better be there.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out the amazing fanart by [skeleton-hunting-fanatic](http://skeleton-hunting-fanatic.tumblr.com/)!  
> <http://skeleton-hunting-fanatic.tumblr.com/post/139938991751/my-first-fanart-ever-and-its-fontcest-yep-im>

Sans took a swig of mustard and placed the half-empty bottle on the bar. He had left his post early to go to Grillby’s, not really caring if Papyrus got mad or not. Groaning softly, he rested his head on his fist. He felt like shit and the only thing that made him feel better in times like this were the creature comforts of his favorite dimly-lit dive.

Leaving early wasn’t all that big a deal, honestly. It wasn’t like he did anything at his “job” anyways. All he did was sit there and wait for a human to walk by. Which, considering his knowledge of the timelines, even made _that_ dull. Needless to say, his job left a lot of time for his mind to wander. And wander it did. He couldn’t stop thinking about Papyrus, about last night, and early this morning. Scenes kept playing over in over in his head, which you’d think would be helpful – considering he spent a lot of alone time out there. But no, the memories brought with them more feelings than he’d bargained for.

His soul strained in his chest. All he’d wanted was to help Papyrus out for once. He never did anything right. And he never could make the guy happy. Even when he tried to do something he thought would make him approve it always ended in disaster. He grumbled into his drink. It certainly was a disaster now, at least for him, and it had only gone downhill from the moment he woke up.

It had been early this morning when he had woken up before Papyrus. The light from the window is what had awaken him, it seemed to be at just the right angle to where it shone directly on his eyesockets. He had yawned and stretched, and thought about leaving… But, just seeing his brother sleeping so peacefully, his arms still wrapped around him from the night before…

It made his soul beat warmly. He had held onto that feeling, choosing to stay awake a while, simply taking in the feeling of his brother’s chest rising and falling below him. Taking in his scent: musk, blood, and sweat. He studied his face. Memorized his strong jaw, narrow cheekbones, and the large scar that ran down over his left eye. Though he slept soundly, Papyrus always looked slightly angry. It was almost as if it was permanently etched into his skull. Much like his own permanent grin, he had mused.

Sans brought himself back to the present as he took another drink of mustard. The memories from yesterday were pleasant in the fact that they were sexual, sure, but he kept finding himself returning to the moments that weren’t all that focused on the _heat_ of the moment. Papyrus holding him close to his chest, trailing his fingers up his spine… He shivered in his seat. Seeing him smile, genuinely smile, for the first time since he could remember, hearing him laugh, listening to him sleep.

He put a hand to his teeth, remembering the kiss that Papyrus had placed there. It had been a quick ordeal, a light clank and then they had settled into exhausted sleep. But, oh, that kiss had fucked him up. _Papyrus_ had fucked him up. He groaned to himself, self-loathing radiating in his chest. What was wrong with him? He had never had feelings like this for anyone before, let alone his brother!

Now, he admired Papyrus, sure. Who wouldn’t? He was a deadly killer, someone everyone knew and respected, and stayed the hell away from. Being his brother, Sans smack talked him and bad-mouthed him all the time, but he really did adore everything about his brother deep down. He was everything Sans wished he could be: powerful, relentless, stead-fast, and just all around great. He laughed to himself. Maybe calling himself “The Great Papyrus” wasn’t really all that silly.

 

He rolled his eyes down the length of the bar. None of the other normals were here yet. The only people here was himself and the bartender/owner of the grease-trap, Grillby, who was taking the lapse in business to rub the shine into his glasses, not paying him any mind.

He and Grillby had a…strange relationship. Sans sniffed in contempt as he sipped more mustard. He liked to think Grillby was his friend, but honestly he had no friends. No one did. There were just people who were less likely to kill you. Grillby hated Sans because he never paid his tab, but he never laid a finger on him on account of the fact that Papyrus would kill him.

He supposed that was close enough to a friend.

“hey, Grillbz?” The violet flame monster turned to him with a scowl, obviously hating the fact that Sans was using the stupid nickname he had given him.

“What?” He spat, not even bothering to stop cleaning glasses as Sans spoke to him.

Sans swallowed hard. He was drunk, he knew it. And sober Sans would never ask this, but he just really needed advice right now. Even if it was advice coming from a sadistic barkeep. “have ya ever been in love?”

“What?!” The flames that made up the fire monster’s head flared in surprise, casting a bright purple glow before dying down. He was so startled, he even put the glass he’d been attending down to give him his full attention. “Why are you asking something like _that_?”

The small skeleton toyed with his bottle of mustard, spinning it around between his hands as he slurred his response, “jus’ wanna know.” He looked away at the incredulous expression on Grillby’s face. “for a friend.” He smiled lamely, knowing that Grillby would easily see through him.

Warmth spread across his front as Grillby walked over and came to a stop across from him. “Why does your “friend” need to know?” He felt the air grow hotter as Grillby leaned in close. “You’re not in heat…are you, Sans?”

Sans shrunk back from his advance. He was, and he certainly didn’t want the flame monster catching wind of it. Sans wrapped his jacket about himself tighter, muffling the weak light of his soul. “turn the heat down, Grillbz. ya know the boss would kill ya if ya tried anything.” He was about to down the rest of his condiment, when Grillby snatched it from him angrily. “hey!”

Grillby hissed, “You’re a piece of shit, Sans. If it wasn’t for that brother of yours…” He grinned, his fiery teeth peeking from the blaze. “Well, maybe you ought to think about paying your tab.” He put the mustard on the shelf behind him, then went back to cleaning his glass.

Sans grumbled. That hadn’t helped at all. Sighing angrily, he took out a small “emergency” bottle of his own mustard from inside his jacket. Putting the nozzle to his mouth, he downed a third of it. He might not have drowned out these intrusive thoughts yet, but maybe after this bottle…

 

He sighed as his mind wandered back to this morning again, stubborn in its need to piece things apart.

After he had spent some time studying Papyrus’ face, he had felt a pull. It had been such a strange feeling, so new and powerful, that he still wasn’t sure what that feeling had been. But, it was a strong sensation that had pulled his soul close to his ribs, where it fluttered directly against his bones. He had wanted to move, to pull away and inspect himself, but he also didn’t want to wake Papyrus, so he left the feeling be.

That had been a mistake. After that, things really got freaky.

He had clung to Papyrus, trying to ignore the fact that his soul was sporadically flapping in his chest like a bird with a caught wing. He had been afraid, and Papyrus always made him feel safe. Surely, he thought, if he stayed close to him he would be alright? He remembered feeling his brother’s soul pounding beneath him, and it was a wonder Papyrus had not awaken from such an extreme motion. He remembered there being a tremendous feeling of release, like the wind had been knocked from him. Accompanying this, a strange sensation: his soul had felt…full. In that moment, it had felt like everything was ok, like nothing bad could ever happen. It had made him feel strong and weak at the same time. It had been the most incredible and terrifying thing he’d ever felt in his life.

And then it stopped. His soul had calmed, his breath had returned, and everything seemed to go right back to normal.

But it wasn’t normal, and that couldn’t have been nothing. Something had happened to him. Something had filled his head with all these odd feelings and thoughts.

 

Barking and laughing could be heard from behind him as the door opened and the other usuals entered, but he paid them no mind. He ran a hand over his skull in frustration, then chugged the rest of his mustard. Maybe he should talk to Papyrus about this. After all, the worst that could happen is that Papyrus would laugh at him and probably refuse to help him with his heat as punishment for wasting his time. He grumbled to himself. Whatever, he could handle his urges on his own if it came to it. He was about to get up and head for home when a paw lighted on his shoulder.

He was spun around in his bar stool and brought to face a whole pack of dog monsters.

Sweat began to form on his skull. Could they see his heat? He nonchalantly shoved his hands in his pockets and pulled his jacket closer. “h-hey, guys. something you need?”

The dog monsters were barking at each other, their sharp teeth flashing in the light of the bar.

Sans didn’t know what they were saying. He was obviously the source of interest though, because they kept looking at him, sizing him up. He began to feel a rising tide of panic in his soul. His eyes darted between their faces, unable to tell their intentions. His breathing became shallow and fast, making it hard to breath. His escape was cut off. The dog monsters were blocking the only exit out of the bar.

Would he be able to teleport being as drunk as he was? He wasn’t sure he could. What if they chased after him? He didn’t know if he could outrun them either.

The hand on his shoulder shook him, causing him to jump with a yelp.

“Geez, calm down, sweaty.” The dog that had a hard time seeing stationary things was looking at him with an amused grin. “You’re shaking so hard I can see you just sitting there.”

Another dog he wasn’t familiar with, he thought maybe his name was Dogress (or something?), laughed. “Ha! Look at him shivering! It can’t possibly be him.” He rolled an unimpressed look to the female dog monster next to him.

The other dog snapped back, “Who else could it be?”

Sans felt faint. What were they talking about? Why couldn’t they just leave him alone?

A very large dog, one that he knew as “Greater Dog” pushed between the two arguing monsters and shoved his snout into Sans’ middle.

“hey! w-what the fuck are you doing?!” His hands flew from his pockets as the monster sniffed him roughly, rubbing its wet nose against his ribs. He cried out in panic as his shirt got ruffled and pushed up, revealing the light of his soul.

Luckily, the dog monster pulled back once it was satisfied, and began barking at the other dogs. They seemed completely disinterested in Sans’ heat. They were intent on chattering about something Sans couldn’t understand.

He gripped his chest, his soul felt like it was going to break apart from how anxious he felt. Sweat was dripping from his skull as he tried to calm his shaky breathing. His eyes darted to the door, seeing that it was no longer blocked by the pack of monsters.

Grillby called out to the dogs, obviously curious of the ruckus they were causing.

Now was his chance. While the dogs were busy talking to Grillby, Sans bolted from his chair.

He pumped his legs, dodging around the paws that tried to grasp at him as he ran. He blew open the door, his eyes watering from the chill air hitting his face.

If he kept running, he’d be fine-

 

He hacked as something grabbed hold of the back of his shirt, yanking him back roughly to drag him through the snow. He twisted around, his eyes widening in panic as he saw the fiery bartender holding him by the scruff of his shirt. He wheezed, unable to catch his breath enough to say anything. Magic coursed to his fingertips as he prepared to trap Grillby’s soul in his grasp. Grillby, aware of Sans’ ability, quickly manhandled the garments in his grasp up over Sans’ skull, wrapping his arms in the sleeves. The bartender pushed him to the ground, looming over him. Sans thrashed in his make-shift bond, suddenly very aware of how dire this was. “shit! let me go!” His voice cracked and the bartender cackled.

Grillby wriggled a finger under his red tie, tugging it loose. Sans could only tremble as he tossed the article aside and unsnapped the first few buttons of his shirt. “You _lied_ to me Sans.” He ran a fiery digit from Sans’ throat and down his sternum, the heat of it making him grit his teeth from the burn. “You _are_ in heat.”

Sans all but barked back, “f-fuck off, chode! Papyrus will-”

A hand gripped his spine roughly. Sans choked out a scream of pain as fiery magic licked up his spine, dancing along his ribs. After a few moments of watching Sans writhe in pain, Grillby cut off his magic. “I hardly think Papyrus is fit to help you right now, Sans.” He sounded all-too-pleased.

Sans stopped his struggling, shocked at what Grillby had just said. “what? w-what do you mean? what’s wrong with Papyrus?”

“Oh? You don’t know?” He laughed, the sound like a roaring blaze. “Well, I’d be too ashamed to say anything too, if I were him.”

Sans narrowed his eyes at his words. “what?! tell me what’s wrong with Papyr-AAAA!”

Grillby inflicted another shot of flame up his spine. The bartender grinned wide, loving the pained screams of the weaker monster.


	7. Chapter 7

Papyrus growled in frustration.

Now that he had time to cool off, he felt really stupid. He definitely could have handled the whole ordeal with the dogs better. In fact, he was a little surprised at himself. Since when had he become so reckless? Letting them get to him like that was a huge mistake. They all knew he was pregnant now. Those mutts were likely to go barking the news to anyone within earshot. Eventually the news would make it to Sans and, well, more than likely others would figure out who his sire was from there.

He needed to tell Sans before someone else did it for him.

He winced inwardly. He was going to be telling Sans that he was pregnant and that he was the one to impregnate him. This was not going to be easy. The small skeleton was such a little shithead, he’d probably start laughing. Maybe make a few puns at his expense. It didn’t matter to him. He didn’t expect Sans to take this seriously. No, when the soul finally was mature enough to manifest its body he would be its sole caretaker. He had known that from the moment he saw it floating within him. He grumbled to himself, “I’ll just have two children to take care of now, I guess.” Just another irresponsible, messy, needy, helpless monster.

The soul gave a little shudder, making Papyrus reach a hand up. He caressed the magic barrier beneath his shirt, earning him a comforting glow.

He liked the thought of Sans taking responsibility…but it just was not going to happen. If he could have helped it, he’d rather Sans not even know. But obviously it would have been impossible hide the bulge of his stomach. Not to mention that he would have eventually had to explain where the child came from once it was formed. No matter how he looked at it, things just wouldn’t work out easy for him.

Finally coming up to Sans’ sentry post, he could clearly see that it was empty. The rickety stand was covered with snow. The counter had a fine layer built up already, meaning either Sans had been gone a while or he was behind the counter. With an angry grunt, he checked behind it to make sure Sans wasn’t sleeping underneath. No. The only thing underneath were rows of mustard bottles of varying sizes and fullness. He wasn’t here, so that means he’s at Grillby’s.

Papyrus turned on his heel and began the long walk to the greasy dive.

Snow crunched under his feet, the only sound in the dark woods. Most might find the silence unsettling, but Papyrus found comfort in it. If it was silent, he could better hear someone trying to catch him off guard. His magic-warmed breath billowed out before him to make steamy clouds. Silence helped him think.

What if Sans wanted to help take responsibility?

He laughed out loud at the intrusive thought, the harsh sound echoing against the surrounding trees and frightening some animals within the woods into flight.

Sans? Helping take care of a _child_? He could barely take care of himself! Case in point, the fact that he was going to pick him up from a back-wash bar and he was more than likely drunk. He only ate junk, he never picked up after himself, he slacked off…the list went on and on.

Not to mention, there was no way Sans could help protect a child.

Sans was different than the other monsters. He always had been different. When they were young, Papyrus had to step up and protect his brother because Sans was not a fighter. Sans hated fighting. It just wasn’t in him to kill something. He acted tough and was quick with an insult, but Papyrus knew him. Sans was soft in more ways than one. They had nearly starved to death because Sans couldn’t kill anything, though he had the ability. Papyrus knew Sans was strong, he just lacked the nature to act on it. And in a world that was kill or be killed, he was doomed.

He knew it was why Sans drank, why he had nightmares, why he acted the way he did. He was doomed in this world and Sans knew it. Every day was potentially his last and the cards were stacked against him. He supposed that was why he had even bothered protecting him all these years. Life was unfair to the small skeleton.

He clacked his teeth in thought. No, that wasn’t entirely true, well, it wasn’t the _only_ reason he protected him. He…admired him…in a way. The fact that he got out of bed (for the most part) and went about his day despite being so utterly hopeless was in and of itself admirable. The underground was tough, and he had seen greater monsters than Sans throw in the towel.

It was inspiring, the way he kept fighting against the odds.

He could just see the light of Grillby’s in the distance. A beacon of temporary comfort for broken souls.

Papyrus gave a pensive sigh, stirring up a puff of steam in the cool air. Sans was a good monster, deep down. If things were different, if this world wasn’t so horrible and dangerous, he could imagine that Sans would have made a decent caretaker. He was funny (in his own way), charismatic (also in his own way), and he was very clever.

If things were different… He felt the little soul inside him shiver. If things were different he would have been…happy…to raise the child with Sans.

A piercing scream erupted from up ahead, “Papyr-AAA!”

“SANS!” Papyrus felt his soul drop in his chest. He sprinted forward, his magic blazing to life in his hands.

 

* * *

 

The fire burned his soul.

It was too hot, too intense. He felt like he was going to be turned to ash. His eyes screwed shut as the lick of violet flame threatened to incinerate him. Tears streamed from his eyes as he cried out in agony. “s-stop! i’m g-gonna d-die!” 

The onslaught of fire stopped. 

Sans’ chest heaved as he tried to hold himself together. Everything hurt, his whole body felt like it was charred to shit.  

He opened his eyes, only to wish he hadn’t. Grillby loomed over him, an enormous flaming cock in his hand. The flame monster gave a harsh laugh, “You’re such a pathetic little thing.” He grabbed Sans by his jaw, pulling him close to his face. The skeleton’s eyes widened in horror as a dark tongue of fire uncoiled from his mouth and lashed along his teeth in a forced kiss. Grillby pressed his dick to Sans’ spine and after wrapping his hand around both the shaft and his spinal column, he began to rapidly jerk them off.

The heat was unbearable against his sensitive vertebrae. Tears cascaded down Sans’ face as he screamed. 

The cry was abruptly cut off as the tongue assaulting him shoved itself into his mouth, incinerating everything it touched. The fiery appendage pushed itself to the back of his throat making Sans gag and flounder in his grasp as he tried to get away from the heat. Grillby released him suddenly, letting him fall back into the snow. He swiped his tongue across his lips, “It’s going to be so much fun breaking you.”

Sans watched in stunned horror as lava-like precum dripped from the cock just inches away, falling to sizzle in the snow. “n-no…”

Blazing hot hands grabbed him by the hips and flipped him onto his stomach. This couldn’t be happening! He wormed his way forward, desperate to escape. Grillby yanked him back harshly by his hips and rubbed his member against the back of his sacrum. Even with his shorts to protect him, the heat from the other monster’s dick felt like it was branding him. “no, wait! don’t!” A hand shoved him in between his shoulder blades, forcing his face into the snow as his hips were positioned above him. “please! stop, please! y-you’ll k-kill me!” He sobbed uncontrollably as he begged for his life, his entire body shaking from fear. “please, s-stop!”

Grillby tsked at him from behind, as if scolding a child. “Well, you should have paid off your tab.” Sans wailed as he felt his shorts fall to his knees. “You’d better not die right away. I at least want to get something out of you.”

Hiccuping a shaky sob, Sans cried into the dark, “Pap! help me!”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if anybody is interested, but here is [the song that played on repeat for like 3 fucking hours](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QxN-u0dKUMU) while I wrote this. I don't know what it is about this song, but its my go-to background music when I write these kinds of scenes.

Screams echoed from up ahead.

Sans’ screams.

He had never wanted to get to Grillby’s so badly in his life. Papyrus was running full sprint, all caution thrown to the wind. “SANS!” He hollered out ahead of him, hoping his brother could hear him. “SANS! I’M COMING!”

As he drew closer, he felt rage seethe into his bones.

Sans was not in the bar. No, in front of the bar in the snow he could just make out his brother’s pudgy frame. He was easy to spot with the purple light of the fire monster, Grillby, bent over him.

“Pap! help me!” Sans’ scream was like bloody murder.

He had never heard so much fear in his brother’s voice in his life. The rage in his bones felt like it had ignited his very soul aflame. Conjuring up a long-bone into his palm, he vaulted it out ahead of him like a javelin. He watched as the bone soared through the air with a shrill whistle before hitting its target square in the chest. A screeching roar pierced the night as the fire monster went flying back from the force of the blow.

“SANS!” Papyrus slid to a stop in front of Sans, shielding him with his body from the wailing monster a few yards away. He looked over his shoulder at his brother, hoping to find that he wasn’t as bad off as he thought.

The smaller skeleton, who had squirmed onto his back, looked up at him with eyes streaming tears. “P-Papyrus?” He choked out, his voice hoarse from screaming. Sans was a wreck. His pants caught about his ankles, his shirt holding his arms captive behind his head. Worse than anything else, though, was the scorch marks all over his bones.

“ARE YOU HURT?!” Papyrus didn’t even need an answer, he could see it written plain on Sans’ face. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the violet flame monster lift himself from the ground.

Growling low in his throat, he readied another long-bone attack. Papyrus gave Sans one final look, and tried his best to sound as comforting as possible as he reassured the small skeleton. “It’s ok, Sans. I’ll protect you.” With that, he sprinted forward, not wanting Grillby to get anywhere near his brother again.

 

Grillby had recovered himself and flashed a fist up just in time as Papyrus brought the long-bone down with both hands. The force of his hit made Grillby grunt as he braced himself for further retaliation. Papyrus was relentless in his attack, slashing madly at the fire monster, driving him back. Using both his hands he shoved the broadside of the bone into the fire monster’s chest, making him falter. Grillby staggered back from the bash and gasped as Papyrus thrust his weapon forward.

“I’M GOING TO DOUSE YOU, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” The long-bone made purchase in Grillby’s left arm.

“Agh!” He cried out in pain from the blow. Though the attack had hit him hard, he was not severely injured. Grillby had fainted away from the attack and gotten off with a nasty slice instead of a lost arm.

 

Papyrus cackled darkly. Grillby must have thought he got off easy with his attack, but in actuality he had played into his hand. He had caught Grillby off-guard. A wretched grin curled on his skull as he raised his hand, magic ready to call forth a slew of bones to stab at him through the ground. “SEE YOU IN HELL.”

Grillby’s eyes went wide behind his glasses as he saw the red magic course to life in Papyrus’ hand. In desperation, he shot a fireball at him.

It went wide. Too wide. Almost as if he wasn’t aiming for him-

The fireball had not been intended for him.

It was headed straight for Sans.

“NO!” Papyrus bellowed as he snapped around and changed the direction of his bone attack. He called forth his magic, sturdy pillars of bone shooting up from the ground just in front of Sans, shielding him from the fire. The bones crumbled almost immediately after the powerful attack. For a moment, his soul froze, afraid that the bones had not been enough. Relief washed over him as he saw a round skeleton shift and move in the snow.

He did not have time to relish the feeling.

A burning fist slammed into the side of his skull. The force of which made his vision fade to black as the crack on the left side of his skull shattered. “GAH!” He staggered back, a hand flying up to cover the deep, gaping fissure. His head swam and spun. The vision to his right eye returned just as columns of fire erupted from the ground in quick succession, headed straight for him.

Papyrus summoned bones beneath his feet, using them to launch himself out of harm’s way. He landed a few feet away, and gasped as fireballs screeched towards him. Papyrus threw himself into a roll to the side to dodge the attack.

He should not have done that.

He grunted in pain as he pulled himself back up and placed a hand to his stomach. The harsh movement had caused the soul within him to blink brightly in distress. “SHIT!” Gritting his teeth, he wrapped an arm about his middle, hoping to help stabilize his movements.

 

Grillby seemed to notice his discomfort. He called out to him with a cocky smile, “What’s wrong, Papyrus? Having baby troubles?” He laughed as he launched more fireballs at him.

Papyrus, afraid of risking harming the soul he carried with another dodge, dipped into his magic reserve. He summoned a shield of bones, which easily blocked the onslaught of fireballs. The fire, however, took its toll and burned the magical shield to charred bits.

He barely had time to react as Grillby broke through the blackened bones and rushed him, fire streaming from his fists. Reacting on instinct, he flashed small bone attacks in front of him to block the oncoming attacks. The small bones Papyrus used to deflect the punches splintered under each blow from the fire monster, forcing Papyrus to keep summoning more or risk being hit.

Sweat poured from his skull, both from the heat of his adversary and exhaustion.

Grillby did not appear to be running out of stamina any time soon. The fire monster grinned at him. “You getting tired?”

Papyrus grunted as another punch smashed through his defense. He was caught in a bind. He just couldn’t seem to shake Grillby’s melee attacks. He could feel himself getting weaker after each splintering strike. His magic reserves were depleting quickly. If he didn’t finish this fast…

He pushed the thought from his mind. He would not be beaten. He couldn’t be. He needed to keep going…for Sans and for the child.

Seeing an opening, Papyrus cast a bone attack forward, catching Grillby off guard and knocking him back a few feet. Finally given the space he needed, the skeleton summoned up his special attack, his hands burning with the intensity of red fire. With a splintering crash, bones of various sizes erupted from the ground, crashing out in a concentrated wave from where he stood. The very ground shook with the power of his attack. By the time everything settled, a field of bones lie out before him.

 

Papyrus swayed as he felt the magic siphon from his bones. His breath heavy, he bent forward at the waist to brace himself against his legs. Sweat dripped onto the snow at his feet. The salty liquid stinging the gash in his left eye socket. Any more magic than that and he probably would have died. “Nyeh heh heh.” He laughed tiredly. That was the most powerful attack he had ever constructed. Grillby was _boned_ for certain.

 

His soul plummeted when he saw fire erupt amongst the bones, quickly catching and burning them to the ground.

The smoke cleared to reveal his adversary, alive. Grillby stood amongst the ashes, his clothes a torn mess and the one whole side of his glasses was broken to shit. The only sign of him having taken any damage at all was a heavy limp to his step. And he was limping right towards him, panting laughs dripping from his fiery maw.

 

He felt a dryness to his throat as he watched his soon-to-be executer draw closer. He had no magic left to use to defend himself. The magic he had left felt like it was barely enough to keep his skeletal body from clattering to the ground. Still, though, he pulled himself into a shaky stand. He was not going to give Grillby the satisfaction of seeing him fall apart.

Grillby came to a stop right in front of Papyrus, eyeing him up and down. “Hah…that was, whew…something else. And that special attack…wow!” The fire monster sounded thoroughly impressed. He pressed a hand to Papyrus’ chest and shoved. The skeleton, startled by the unexpected action sat back in the snow with a thud. And there he remained, too drained to do more than watch as Grillby kneeled down in front of him. “I didn’t know you could do that, Papyrus.” He cocked his head thoughtfully as he examined the bulge in his shirt. “Especially not with that leech inside you.” Grillby reached forward and bunched the skeleton’s shirt up over the magical barrier, a smirk crossing his face as he looked at the small heart shining from within.

Papyrus dryly rasped out, “No,” as wrapped his arms around his belly, weakly trying to protect his unborn child.

“Ha, ha. Oh, Pap.” Grillby shook his head with a laugh as he gently pushed his hands away, resting one of his own over the soul. “You’ve grown attached, haven’t you?”

The words caused a wrenching strain in his chest.

Yes, he had.

He had grown attached. Something that he knew would only cause him detriment. But even now, he could feel both his soul and the one that was not his beat in tandem. Both were afraid. Both wanted to keep fighting, wanted to keep breathing, wanted to experience what the world had to offer for them. Both wanted to _survive._

It would be different if it was just him that was going to die. He had accepted the inevitability of his death a very long time ago. But now… He fixed his good eye on the soul inside him. It wasn’t just him. What was worse, he knew that after he and, by extension, the unborn child he carried, were dust, he had no doubt Grillby would kill his brother as well.

He had failed both of them.

 

“You know, Papyrus…” Grillby hummed thoughtfully, his hand rubbing burning hot circles into the magical casing absently. “Since you seem to want a child so badly, I’ll make sure to visit you the next time you’re in heat.”

He wasn’t going to kill him? Papyrus cast his eye up in surprise at his words. But his surprise fell into a sickening feeling as the other monster’s words sunk in. Visit him his next heat? The small soul inside of him trembled underneath the fire monster’s threatening touch.

Grillby ignored his questioning stare. “Hmm, your poor face…” He went to caress the ruined left side of Papyrus’ skull, but the skeleton rejected his advance with a turn of his head. Undeterred, Grillby went on, “You’re really something special, Papyrus. You’re everything a monster could ever want,” He groaned, a wisp of smoke escaping from his mouth. “And I’ve wanted you for so long now.” The hand on his stomach stopped. “We’ll make something great together, you’ll see.”

 

Papyrus cried out in pain as Grillby dug his claws into his womb.

“But, first, let’s take care of this abomination.”

 

* * *

Sans struggled in his bonds.

“c’mon you motherfucker!” He growled as he twisted in the snow. His eyes remained trained on the battle taking place before him. Flashes of fire and red magic sparked in the darkness as Grillby and Papyrus fought.

He shouldn’t be worried. Papyrus was stronger than Grillby. He had kicked him around plenty of times.

But Sans _was_ worried. He had watched his brother fight hundreds of times. He knew how he moved, how he attacked. He knew that this time something was different.

Papyrus seemed more unsteady on his feet than usual, almost like he was carrying something heavy. The way he swayed with his movements would have been comical if the situation weren’t so dire. His brother wasn’t using as much magic as normal either. Sans knew that Papyrus had a massive reserve of magic at his disposal. He could easily outlast much tougher monsters in a fight because he was good at rationing his magic where he needed to and summoning massive criticals when necessary.

As Sans wriggled his way in the snow, he gasped.

A massive ball of fire was headed straight for him. He snapped his eyes shut, not wanting to watch as he was turned to dust. The fireball exploded with a concussive boom.

 

But Sans was still alive. He peeked one eye socket open to see a row of bones, black and charring and already crumbling away to ash. They had shielded him from the blast.

He turned his head to see Papyrus watching him in the distance, making sure he was alright. Unbeknownst to his brother, Grillby was coming up from the side, his fist emblazoned with magic.

“Papyrus! look out!”

He watched in horror as Papyrus was sucker punched, a cry of pain and a sound like splintering wood ringing out into the dark.

Sans screamed in frustration, tossing and rolling on the ground, trying to break free.  

 

Grillby had switched tactics. He was rushing his brother…and Papyrus looked like he was struggling.

“Pap!” He called out to him, though over the heat of battle there was no way he could hear him. “c’mon!” He screeched at his cloth restraint. His arms hurt from trying to twist his way out, his socket joints straining painfully.

As he wormed his way on the ground he bumped into something. A large rock, buried beneath the snow. Sans counted his blessings as he began to rub his garments against it roughly, the material snagging on the sharp outcrop. He could hear the material begin to rip. Yes, perfect.

The ground shook beneath him. Sans looked up in shock as he saw an armada of bones stab through the ground. He grinned as he stopped struggling to watch the display. “heh heh! bye, Grillbz.” No way could anyone have survived that. That was fucking amazing! He didn’t know Papyrus could even do that!

 

His soul dropped as fire blazed to life amongst the field of bones.

Sans whined in terror as the fire spread, eating away the bones until they were nothing but black soot. His breath caught in his throat as the fire revealed Papyrus standing amongst the ruin, shaking from exhaustion.

“shit! shit! shit!” Sans scraped his arms against the rock with renewed vigor, barely noticing as the rock scraped bits of bone from his arms as he struggled to wear away the last shreds of the cloth.

Grillby strode forward and shoved his brother to the ground before he crouched down beside him.

Sans felt the last few threads snap. He tore his arms from behind his head. Yanking up his pants he sprinted full force towards the two, ready to grab Grillby’s fucking soul and chuck him into the goddamn roof of the cavern.

He stopped dead when he got close, his brother’s cry of pain stabbing through his soul.

 

Something inside of him stirred. A surge of power shot through him, radiating from his soul in quick waves. The palms of his hands tingled. Vaguely he remembered something he had previously forgotten. The acrid smell of chemicals, buzzing lights, white coats, and rows of massive glowing eyes. He could feel the presence of something powerful. Something that had always been there, waiting in the wings. Those massive glowing eyes… They were skulls, twisted from the exploits of science and magic.

 

They were weapons, and they were at his command.

A grin stretched across his face in grim humor. He was filled with determination.

 

“hey, Grillbz!”

Both Grillby and Papyrus turned to see Sans. His tattered shirt and jacket fluttered from his shoulders, his smile bordering something nightmarish.

“get the fuck out of here,” He fixed the fire monster with his red eyes, a deathly serious glint sparking in their depths. “or i’m gonna have a great time.”

Grillby did not budge, he was too shocked to do more than stare.

“i’m gonna give ya three seconds to make up your mind.”

Grillby got up from the ground, and laughed. “Or what? You’ll snivel at me?”

“one.”

Grillby flinched in surprise at the small skeleton’s boldness before he narrowed his eyes. “Shut the fuck up, Sans. I know you’re bluffing.”

“two.”

“I said, SHUT UP!” The fire monster rushed forward, his hands ablaze. He laughed as Sans stood there, not even trying to move away from his attack. His fist slammed forward to punch the goddamn smile off his face once and for all, when suddenly he wasn’t there.

“three.”

Grillby spun around to see the skeleton directly behind him, standing beside his brother. “Wha-?”

Four hellish skulls materialized just behind Sans. Sharp spines decorated their crests, blood red eyes flaming in their sockets. Their terrifying, broken and splitting mouths seemed to stretch in silent morbid laughter.

Grillby looked up at them in utter horror. “S-Sans, there’s no way you can beat me! If you even try anything,” The stutter in his voice betrayed the fear he felt. He never expected to see such a display of force from the weakest monster in the underground. “I’ll make you pay-!”

“heh heh heh!” Sans cut him off with a laugh as he shrugged and smiled.

“put it on my tab.”

With a point of his finger, the skulls opened their maws, a powerful combined blast of magic roaring into life.

Grillby conjured a wall of flame as a last-ditch effort to protect himself. The weaponized skulls’ attack broke through the shield like it was paper. A short scream was all that was heard before it was snuffed from the blast. Sans stood watching, his pleased grin lit by the immense red light that his attack produced. Finally having had enough, he commanded the weapons to stop. The skulls dissipated from existence as steam billowed from the evaporated snow beneath Sans’ attack.

By the time it cleared nothing was left of Grillby but a smoking crater.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaah! Another fanart! This time made by [nisura](http://nisura.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> WARNING! SPOILER LINK: <http://yupimgross.tumblr.com/post/140164040491/this-is-some-art-i-did-for-your-super-cool-fix>

Holy shit, that had been so badass.

 

“heh! did you see that, boss?” Sans was practically shaking with excitement. Who would have thought, he, of all monsters, would snuff Grillby? He felt so fucking awesome. He felt like he could take on the goddamn world! No one would ever fuck with him again! When Papyrus failed to comment, he frowned. “oh, c’mon, you ass-“

Sans’ words turned to dust on his tongue as he looked over at his brother.

Papyrus was lying in the snow, unresponsive. Red magic pouring from a large gash in his middle.

“Papyrus!” Sans rushed forward, and dropped to his knees beside him. “Pap!”

Red was seeping out in a steady flow, evaporating as it came into contact with the snow beneath him. Sans’ eyes went wide. What was causing this outpour of magic? Skeletons didn’t bleed, and they certainly didn’t bleed magic. As he looked closely at his brother he noticed that there was an odd…bump…in his middle.

“what the hell?” Sans reached forward, and pressed a bony hand to the strange bulge.

He gasped as a weak light shimmered from beneath his fingers.

Ripping off a piece of his tattered jacket, he gently wiped red magic away from the gashes to reveal a soul weakly bobbing inside of his brother.

“what?” He looked incredulously up to his brother’s unconscious face, as if expecting an answer. But of course, he didn’t receive one. He really didn’t need one anyway. “heh.” He choked out a nervous laugh as he placed his other hand on the magic womb. The little heart made a small blip of light at his touch.

Papyrus was pregnant. Why hadn’t he told him?

He suddenly remembered Grillby’s words from earlier: “Well, I’d be too ashamed to say anything too, if I were him.” Before, those words hadn’t made sense to him. He hadn’t known what Grillby had been talking about. He was surprised as tears dripped from his sockets, pattering onto the red casing in Papyrus’ middle. He knew now.

This wasn’t just Papyrus’ child. This was _their_ child.

“shit, Papyrus.” His skull felt like it was swimming at the mere prospect. He had gotten Papyrus pregnant. God he felt sick down to the marrow. Papyrus hadn’t told him because he was ashamed, and Sans didn’t blame him. Sans was a piece of shit, and he knew it. There was nothing redeemable about the small skeleton.

Swiping away his tears, he watched the soul bobble tenderly. He really couldn’t do anything right, could he? He tried to help his brother feel good for once in his fucking life, and got him knocked up instead.

Sans was shaken from his dark thoughts as the small heart blinked dully at him. His own soul ached from the sheer amount of guilt, yet, he felt a strange warmth in his chest too. Conflicting feelings warred in his mind as he watched the soul shiver and sway, as if it could tell he was there. “heh…you’re a bit of a needy little shit, aren’t ya?” A smile wormed its way onto his skull as his own soul blinked back.

 

A crack broke the silence.

Sans cried out in horror as a small fissure formed in the soul beneath his fingers. Another crackle erupted, though not from the soul between his hands. Sans all but tore Papyrus’ shirt up and felt his world start to crumble as he saw an identical crack slice its way into his brother’s dim soul.

 

 

They were dying.

 

 

“no!” Sans ran his hands over Papyrus, frantic to do something, _anything_ to keep them alive. “Papyrus!” He screamed in his brother’s face. He grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. “Papyrus! don’t-!” But the cracks from the two souls beneath him only grew. He screamed to the heavens, “why?! why does this have to happen?!” He wrapped his arms about Papyrus, burying his face in his chest. “it’s not fair!”

Papyrus didn’t deserve this.

He had always taken care of him. Ever since they were little, Papyrus had been the one to step up and look after him, even though he was younger than Sans. He had worked hard their entire life to ensure Sans was safe. Constantly putting himself in harm’s way to keep him alive.

 

Even though Sans had never cared about his life. He was a weakling, a runt. He was unfit to survive in the underground. By all rights he should have died a long time ago.

Another crack.

A shrill wail escaped his mouth. Why couldn’t Papyrus have left him to die?

 

Sans squeezed him closer, his tears staining his brother’s shirt. He couldn’t do anything to help. He _never_ could do anything to help. Sans’ hands gripped fistfuls of cloth as he sobbed. He lifted his face off his chest to look Papyrus in the face. Though he lie dying and had a gaping hole in his left eye, Sans still thought he looked angry. A stabbing pain hit him in the chest as he remembered watching Papyrus sleep only just this morning, feeling the same sort of awe that he felt now.

Funny how things can change in such a short amount of time.

He swallowed hard as his soul beat harshly in his chest. Sans placed his hand on his brother’s cheek, caressing his thumb along his sharp, narrow cheekbones. He leaned forward and placed a skeletal kiss upon his mouth.

 

Another crack.

A wracking convulsion surged through him as his soul shivered uncontrollably. Though he cried out from the pain, he welcomed the horrible spasms that shot through his chest. He hoped, no, he _prayed_ that his own soul was breaking itself apart. He deserved no less.

He sniveled lamely against his brother’s chest, memories flooding back to him. Sans and Papyrus playing in the snow, enjoying being children for the briefest of moments before they had to retreat back into hiding. Sans reading Papyrus to sleep when they were young, the stories helping to take his mind off the pain of fresh wounds. Papyrus yelling at him for doing something stupid; he always knew what was best for him. Papyrus helping him with his heat despite it being unappealing to him. Papyrus carrying him home from Grillby’s. Papyrus cleaning his room for him. Papyrus pushing him to do better. Papyrus smiling at him. Papyrus laughing. Papyrus kissing him.

Sans sucked in a breath. His soul was glowing unnaturally bright as it vibrated inside him. The immense strain of it made his teeth chatter.

“i-i love you, Pap.”

He buried his face into his chest once more, clinging onto him, knowing it was only a matter of time before he turned to dust in his grasp.

 

 

“Nngh…what?”

Sans snapped his head up to see a grouchy-looking Papyrus. Groaning, the larger skeleton rolled a foggy eye in his socket listlessly, before focusing on him. “…Sans?”

 

Sans could only stare gape-mouthed at the miracle before him. Papyrus was…alive? He looked down at his brother’s soul. It was perfectly intact. The small skeleton quickly shoved himself off of Papyrus’ chest. He fell backwards into the snow, trying to take in what had just happened. The gashes in his belly, the magic that had bled out moments ago, all of it was gone. Sans soul hummed into a slow calm in his chest, its light dying down. “P-Pap?”

 

Ignoring him, Papyrus winced as he began to try to get up.

Snapping out of his stupor, Sans rushed forward and wrapped Papyrus’ arm around his shoulder to help give him support. Was he ok? Was he still hurt? Would his soul still be fragile?

“I don’t need your help, fuckface!” His brother hissed at him through his teeth, and tried to pull his arm back.

Papyrus was fine.

“i’m not gonna let you hurt yourself just so you can keep up your massive ego, dickhead!” Sans snapped at him as he tightened his grip. Papyrus fixed him with an angry glare, but gave no further protest. Sans grunted as they got up from the ground together, Papyrus barely able to support himself. “heh heh! geez, Pap. you need to lose some weight!” Sans joked.

The other skeleton huffed at the comment, but said nothing.

 

Though he appeared to no longer be in danger of dying, Papyrus was already out of breath from the small feat of standing. Sans felt a stirring in his soul as he saw Papyrus wrap an arm about his stomach, carefully cradling the soul within. The sight elicited a feeling akin to someone with a hand about his throat. He swallowed the feeling down, and tried to focus on the here and now. And right now Papyrus needed to not be here. “h-hey, boss. c’mon let’s get home,” He needed to get him home where no monster could try to take advantage of his brother’s weakened state. “i know a shortcut.”

 

The shortcut had brought them relatively close to their home.

He shifted his brother’s weight on his shoulder. “we’re almost there, Pap.”

Papyrus had not said anything the entire time. His eye was glassy and had a far-away look. His breathing was strained and wheezy.

 

Sans all but kicked the door in, and brought Papyrus into the living room. As he came to the front of the couch he groaned in anger at his own laziness. Various empty mustard bottles littered the cushions along with a few nasty-cream wrappers. He shifted Papyrus once more as he felt the younger skeleton start to lean more heavily against him.

“Sans-” Papyrus slurred, his breath whispering against his cheek as Sans tried to swipe all the shit off of the couch. “I-I’m gonna…pass out…”

Just as soon as he finished shoving all the trash onto the floor with a clatter, he felt his brother’s full weight press onto him. “shit!” Sans grit his teeth as he hefted Papyrus’ body the rest of the way and let him slide off his shoulder and onto the seat. He had tried to be gentle, but Papyrus was almost twice his size, and he was too heavy for him to hold on his own. He panted tiredly as he looked down at his brother. That had been close. If Papyrus hadn’t held out until now Sans would have never been able to get him home.

But they were safe now.

With a relieved sigh, he wrestled Papyrus’ lanky arms and legs so that he was lying on the couch in a more comfortable position.

 

As he pulled himself back his ankle smacked into one of the bottles on the floor, sending it rolling away with a loud clink. Sans frowned as he looked at all the trash at his feet and strewn around the couch. He felt a wave of guilt as his eyes shifted to the bulge under his brother’s shirt.

This place was a dump. Not too great for a kid.

For probably the first time in his life, Sans started cleaning. He picked up the trash on the floor, wiped off the table in the living room near the door (he even begrudgingly cleaned the blood off the “pet rock” weapon he kept by the door for defense), and he picked up the shit on the kitchen counters. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand as he examined his work. It wasn’t as good a job as Papyrus usually did, but at least it was decent.

 

He went back into the living room to check on Papyrus.

He found him still asleep, his chest rising and falling slowly. Sans grinned in amusement as he heard a small whistle escape from his younger brother as he exhaled. Was he fucking snoring? He clapped a hand to his mouth to keep himself from snickering, though he tucked that little tid-bit away for later exploitation.

A tiny light blinked, drawing Sans’ eyes to Papyrus’ middle. The light was coming from the soul.

Sweat beaded on his skull as he felt that ghostly choking sensation at his throat once more. Shifting his feet nervously, he ground his teeth in momentary contemplation before walking over to the couch. He knelt beside his brother, his eyes trained on the bump under his shirt. With a gulp and shaking hands, he tentatively placed them on the magical womb.

The soul shown so brightly from his touch, he could see the little heart-shape from beneath the thick fabric of Papyrus’ sweater.

His breath caught in his throat. “fuck…” His chest felt…full. He felt like everything was going to be ok, like nothing bad could ever happen. He felt both strong and weak. He felt incredible excitement: What would they look like? What would they be like? Would they like puns or puzzles? He felt terrifying fear: How were they going to care for a kid? How would they keep them safe? Would the kid like him?

 

What if they were…a runt, like him?

The light in his eyes faded.

He ran a hand over his skull, the sound of bone against bone a soothing and helped ground him.

Papyrus was an amazing monster. He was swift, strong, and adept at magic. The kid would be lucky to get even a fraction of his brother’s magical prowess.

Sans was…well, Sans. He was lazy, easy to tire, and honestly he preferred not to use magic due to it draining him so fast. He gave the little soul a pitying sigh, and removed his hand. God, he hoped the kid didn’t take after him. Otherwise they weren’t going to make it.

With a sigh, he gently removed his hands.

 

Sans stretched as he stood, his weary bones cracking out some of the soreness from all that he’d been put through earlier. He was going to have to go to the store before Papyrus woke up. As he turned to go take stock of shit in the kitchen for his trip, something caught his eye.

A lone sock on the floor beside their television.

He regarded the article. It had been there for what must have been a year. It was a hotly contested item in their household. And Sans and Papyrus fought over it often. Sans didn’t want to pick it up because Papyrus told him to pick it up, and Papyrus didn’t want to pick it up because Sans never did anything and it was his “DAMN SHIT.” It would have been easy for either skeleton to just pick the fucking thing up, but neither he nor Papyrus wanted to relent to the other.

After going through so much with Papyrus over the course of a day, he realized just how stupid it all really was.

 

He picked up the sock.


	10. Chapter 10

He woke with a gasp.

 

For a moment he felt a flash of panic. His left eye would not manifest, everything remained dark. Reaching up he went to check his socket, only to hiss as his fingers brushed the gaping hole in his skull. He relaxed back into the couch, letting his good eye droop closed once more to help him calm down and collect himself. That’s right. He had been in a fight and he’d been sucker punched by that motherfucking coward, Grillby.

His eye shot open in sudden remembrance. Grillby, placing his hand on his stomach, digging his claws into his magical casing… Papyrus sat up so quickly his head swam, but ignored the sensation. He nearly tore his sweater with the force of him lifting his shirt up.

He sighed in relief as he saw the small heart floating gently within him. It appeared to be fine, no cracks, no dimness, just a little soul bobbing carefree.

 

Flopping back down, he covered his eye with his hand and moaned as the incredible aches in his bones came up to greet him. Holy fuck, he had been through some shit lately. First the dog scratching him to shit, then getting pregnant, then the fight with Grillby, and then Sans dragging him home…

Sans.

Slapping his hand on the back of the couch, he hoisted himself into a sitting position.

He grunted with the effort, but once he was up he was alright. He scanned his eye around their small home. He didn’t appear to be in the living room or the kitchen. Both of the doors to their individual rooms were still open from this morning. “Sans?” He hollered out, hoping that maybe he was in his room or some shit.

No response.

 

Sighing, he leaned forward to get up off the couch when he heard the distinct sound of fabric tearing.

Stunned, he ran a hand along the front of his trousers, only to feel that the fabric there was split. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He stood from the couch to inspect the pants. Well, he tried to inspect the pants anyways. But the bulge of his stomach seemed to be more in the way than he was used to. Had he gotten larger? He blinked his eye in surprise as he ran his hand over the curve of his stomach, noticing that his normally loose sweater was no longer able to cover the very bottom of the bulge in his middle. He had no idea this would move along so fast. With there being no other skeletons in Snowdin, he had no idea what to expect when it came to pregnancy.

 

Sniffing in mild annoyance, he decided to head upstairs to get a change of clothes.

 

The journey up the steps had been more cumbersome than he’d ever thought possible. Mostly due to him being so goddamn weak. He headed into his room and made for his dresser. After he got dressed he would see to it that he ate something.

The soul within him blinked and shimmered with frantic intensity. Papyrus cast his eye down at the attention-grabbing light beneath his sweater. “What?” He spoke to it with a raised brow. “What’s your problem?” Almost as if in answer, he suddenly felt a great pang of hunger shiver through his bones.

When was the last time he’d eaten?

As he rummaged through his dresser for clothes, he tried to honestly recall.

Days ago?

 _Weeks_ ago?

He really didn’t know. The soul in him blinked faster, as if it were scolding him. He couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his mouth at the silly notion. With a gentle rub to the side of his womb, he felt the soul calm. “Getting a bit feisty.” He chuckled. He would certainly have to get something filling one way or another, just as soon as he got dressed.

 

He frowned at his selection of garments. What the hell was he supposed to wear? None of them were going to fit him now... None of _his_ clothes would fit him, but maybe a certain fat skeleton’s would. He scrunched his nasal ridge in distaste at the thought, but with a groan he made his way to Sans’ room.

The room was a pig-sty, of course.

Clothes and junk littered the floor, an odd self-sustaining trash tornado twisted and swirled in the far corner. He always wondered why Sans couldn’t put that brilliant mind of his to better use than using it to make bullshit like that. Grumbling comments on how disgusting the room was under his breath, he picked his way to the dresser.  

The clothes inside smelled old and stale.

“Sans, why do you live like this?” He growled as he dug through the haphazardly thrown-in articles. Finally, he reached the bottom. Underneath all the unfolded items, he found a few pairs of clothes that were still folded from who knows how long ago.

They still had that nasty stale smell to them, but he supposed he could do with wearing one outfit now and washing the others for later. He discarded his torn trousers and, after a disappointed tsk, his battle-weary sweater as well.

 

After smelling several pairs of shorts, he picked a pair that smelled the least disgusting: a pair of baggy red pants. Well, he supposed they would be pants on his brother, but on him they were more like knee-length shorts. He was pleasantly surprised to find that they were quite comfortable despite his larger-than-normal middle. The shirts that he found were all relatively thread-worn, with the best of them being a black shirt with scratchy white letters proclaiming the wearer was, “bad to the bone”. Honestly, Papyrus wasn’t even surprised Sans owned something so tacky. He rummaged through the drawers once more, and found nothing better. Disgruntled, he pulled the shirt on. Though it looked fucking ridiculous, he was happy to find that it too fit him well enough.

 

He had just gone back downstairs and gotten the clothes in the washer when he heard the sound of the front door open and then close a few seconds later.

There was the distinct sound of crinkling paper, followed by the clatter of glass and a loud “shit!” from the kitchen.

Papyrus finished putting in the necessary soaps and then started the washer. He came out of the laundry room and was headed to inspect what had happened in the kitchen when he noticed something…off…about the living room. It didn’t take him long to realize that it had been cleaned. He blinked in surprise, the couch no longer had shit all around it, the table by the door was cleared, even the rock on the table lacked the dried blood it normally sported. The television looked like it’d been wiped free of dust and-

His soul stopped dead in his chest.

 

Sans’ sock was gone.

 

 

* * *

 

With some difficulty, Sans managed to get the front door open with both hands full of groceries.

He kicked the door closed as quietly as he could with his foot and went into the kitchen. Setting the crinkly brown bags down, he began to take the items out and set them on the counter when he knocked a jar of spaghetti sauce over.

It fell on its side and rolled over the edge.

“shit!” Sans hissed and just before it hit the ground he caught it with his magic.

Sans tried to peer out into the living room to check if he’d woken Papyrus, but he couldn’t quite see the couch. Well, if he’d waken Papyrus he’d probably find out sooner rather than later. He went back to putting food items in the cupboards and the fridge.

He knew Papyrus was picky and that he hated junk, so he had tried his best to get things that looked healthy. Although he probably didn’t get the “freshest ingredients” as Papyrus would say.

Well, at least he can say he tried.

After putting everything away save a few items he had laid out for cooking, he got out the pots and pans he’d seen Papyrus use. He filled the pot and pan with water and set them on the stove to boil. Ok, now he needed to add a tsp of salt… Sans did a double take. Re-reading the back of the package of spaghetti noodles he groaned. “what the fuck is a “tsp”?” Time Space Portal? Telekinetic Salt Portion? This Shit is Pointless? Giving up on trying to think up what “tsp” might be an acronym for, he added a pinch of salt to the water and hoped for the best.

There was a reason he only ever ate take-out and hotdogs.

Speaking of hotdogs… He leaned over and picked up the packet of dogs from the counter, took out the slippery meat sticks, and placed them into the other pan full of water.

Food for him and food for Papyrus.

He grinned and placed his hands on his hips. He really felt…accomplished. He knew Papyrus would probably hate his spaghetti cause, well, Sans had gotten store-bought sauce and noodles. But he didn’t know how to make spaghetti, so if Papyrus said anything then he’d just tell him to fuck off. He didn’t need to be such a diva anyways.

 

The water began to bubble away.

Sans was a bit too short to comfortably cook from the ground, so he scooted over a chair that sat propped against the wall, and used that to better assist him. As he stirred in the noodles, he felt something wrap about him from behind.

He startled and dropped his spoon into the water.

 

A deep, rumbling voice tickled at his cheek. “What are you making?”

“a-ah!…Papyrus! y-you’re-” He stumbled over his words, feeling a blush creep across his cheeks as he felt the body behind him press flush against his back, familiar arms holding his hips captive. “you’re awake-”

He felt the other chuckle behind him, “You didn’t answer me, Sans.”

Sans gasped as the hands on his hips dug into him, putting pressure on the sensitive bones there. “w-well, i’m making hotdogs for me…”

“Mmm, hmm.” A shiver ran up his spine as he felt Papyrus’ breath on his neck.

“a-and spaghetti…for you, boss…” Fuck. Sans felt his soul beat excitedly in his chest. He never did get to take care of his heat the other day, and this teasing was downright torture.

“Sounds good.”

Sans gulped, his mind completely occupied by thoughts other than cooking.

“Your water is boiling over.”

With a short startled gasp, he turned down the heat.

 

The hands retreated from his hips, the pressure of the body behind him disappeared.

“I’ll leave you to it.”

 

Even after Papyrus had left, Sans still couldn’t get his soul to stop fluttering. He shivered. Sans knew Papyrus was still in the kitchen. He knew he was still there, observing him.

The feeling of being watched was palpable.

Fuck.

Sans’ hands shook as he dumped the noodles into the strainer. He could barely contain the shivers as he opened up the jar of sauce. His bones were rattling as he stretched to take out plates for them both.

After what seemed to him like an eternity, the food was ready.

 

He made to call over his shoulder for Papyrus, but found he didn’t need to. Before he could open his mouth, long thin fingers took a plate from his grasp. Papyrus certainly had been watching him. Sans dared not look at him, for fear of him seeing just how flustered he was. He pretended like he was attending to the hotdogs in the other pan as Papyrus plated himself some spaghetti.

Once Papyrus had gone to sit at the table, Sans put a couple of hotdogs on his plate. Taking a steadying breath, he turned around.

 

 

* * *

 

Sans was cooking him dinner.

 

Papyrus leaned against the wall directly across from the stove, admiring the scene before him.

A smirk stretched across his skull. He was cooking him dinner, and he was barely able to contain his heat. Papyrus watched as the small skeleton had to stretch and lean in order to reach for items on the counter as he cooked away. He could just barely make out the sound of bones rattling with quaking excitement.

As much as he’d love to tease the small monster some more, he knew that now was not the time. He was reminded again by the soul he carried that he was hungry. Bright blinking accompanied by shivering pain that seemed to cut to his marrow made sure he got the message.

He actually was quite pleased with Sans. The fact that his brother was making anything at all was enough for Papyrus. It didn’t even matter _what_ Sans was cooking. Though he did not enjoy the idea of eating the pre-made spaghetti sauce he saw Sans add to the pot of noodles, the smell of food in the air made his bones burn all the stronger. God, he was so fucking hungry.

Sans stretched on his tip-toes in order to reach the cabinet where the plates were stored. The food was ready, apparently.

Papyrus went forward and gently took a plate from Sans’ hand before he needed to call him.

 

Normally, he didn’t eat much. He quite honestly detested eating. It was messy and he rarely could find anything of great nutritional worth. He had been extremely picky for as long as he could remember.

He did not feel all too picky right now. His mouth was watering at just the thought of the easy-to-make spaghetti. He took out a large scoop of the saucy noodles, thankful that his brother was busy attending to something else as he did so. It was an embarrassing amount of food, but he was just so goddamn hungry.

After grabbing his utensils, he quickly made his way to the table and tried to shovel in a few bites so that Sans wouldn’t see how much food he’d taken.

The first bite was all it took for him to be completely overcome with a feral need to eat. The food could have been covered in shit and it’d still taste amazing to him. He swore that he never had, nor ever will have spaghetti that tasted better than the plate in front of him.

 

“are you ok, Pap?”

Shit.

He had been so preoccupied, he hadn’t noticed Sans walk over to join him. “Uh…” He droned off, swallowing his last bite before replying, “Yes…I’m fine, Sans.”

Sans sat down on the other side of the table, still looking concerned. “you’re eating awful fast, boss. are you…heading out soon?” He held him with an uneasy look.

Was he upset about something? “No.” Papyrus tried to keep his embarrassment from showing by covering it with a snarl. “Why don’t you mind your own goddamn self?”

He instantly felt bad for his roughness as his brother shifted in his seat and looked down at his plate of hotdogs. “oh. sorry, boss.”

Was he…about to cry? Papyrus – having no skills when it comes to emotionally sensitive situations such as this – only made things worse. “What’s your problem? Why are you so mopey?”

 

“i’m sorry, boss.” Sans pushed a hotdog around on his plate with a fork, refusing to look up at him as he spoke.

“What the hell are you sorry about?” Papyrus couldn’t read his brother. His tone was strange, almost as if he had something caught in his throat. Even his posture was off as he slumped over his plate.

“for everything!” His watery red sockets finally looked up to him, holding his gaze briefly before shifting down to look pointedly at Papyrus’ middle.

 

Was he apologizing for getting him pregnant?

Papyrus was shocked. He had not expected this. He had not expected _any_ of this. The cleaning, the cooking, going to the grocery store, _picking up his sock._ His mind was running itself in circles, confused and uneasy in a situation he had not planned for. He had figured Sans would have found out he was pregnant, sure, but he had planned on bringing it up because he had known Sans wouldn’t care enough to give it a second thought. Obviously he was wrong.

“Papyrus, i-i’m so sorry about all of this.” Sans visibly swallowed before he went on. “i really fucked up.” Papyrus opened his mouth to speak, but Sans cut him off. “b-but! i want to help! i know I’m lazy and irresponsible and an asshole, but…but i really want to help, Pap…” He trailed off, watching Papyrus expectantly.

 

“…what?” It was all he could say. What else _could_ he say?

“y-yeah, boss. i just felt like you were _due_ to know.” Sans tried to laugh at his joke, but it came out as more of a choking sound than anything else. Embarrassed at his blunder, he nervously rubbed a hand on his skull. “shit. Pap…i-i just…i just want to be there for you, bro.”

Papyrus felt like he’d been critically hit.

“What?” He felt like a broken record, his mouth stuck on repeat while his brain continued to spin.

 

Sans snapped, “what the hell do you mean, “what”?!” He got up from his seat with a clanking of silverware and plates. Leaning over the table he stared his younger brother down. “i want to fucking help you, you ass! for once in my fucking life I want to fucking do something fucking right!” Papyrus was honestly impressed with the way Sans spoke to him. His voice was unwavering as he grit his teeth and hissed, “i fucking want to help with the fucking kid!”

Done, Sans sat back down harshly into his chair, the movement of which made the table move a few inches to the side with a screech.

 

Papyrus was touched, truly. He had never thought Sans would care. He never thought Sans cared about _anything._ He gulped, hoping he didn’t sound as emotional as he felt.

“I’d like that, Sans.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here is some wonderfully devious art by [autumn-m17](http://autumn-m17.tumblr.com/)! >:)  
> PICTURE CONTAINS SPOILERS: <http://yupimgross.tumblr.com/post/140246652576/have-some-testicle-fanart-of-your-burden-to-bear>

The two brothers sat in silence as they held each other’s gaze.

 

It wasn’t until Papyrus started eating again that Sans broke from his daze.

Papyrus would…like that?

What did that even mean?

 

His hotdogs still untouched, he watched Papyrus twirl his fork in his noodles and then bring it to his mouth. The other seemed to really be enjoying the food despite all that had transpired. He had already eaten a bunch of the spaghetti Sans had made. Sans wasn’t sure if that was because he was pregnant or what, but he had never seen his brother eat so much in one sitting.

He turned to his own plate and began eating his now-cool food.

The hotdogs were ok, nothing too special to them. He chewed thoughtfully as he glanced back up at his brother.

 

The younger skeleton appeared to have changed his singed clothing. Sans turned his head to the side, the shirt he wore looked familiar…

Was that his shirt?

His cheeks flushed when he recognized his tastefully “punny” bad to the bone shirt. Yeah, he was wearing his shirt. Why was he wearing his shirt? Sans felt an odd sense of smug delight at the thought of him wearing his clothes. It was strangely satisfying to see the skeleton garbed in something he owned.

 

“I’m going to go watch some television.” Papyrus’ rough voice shook Sans from his thoughts. He got up to take his plate to the sink, and Sans nearly gasped in surprise.

Papyrus was fucking huge.

“s-sure, bro.” He tried to not stare at the large bulge under his t-shirt. Was that normal? It’s only been, what, a day (if that) since they’d had sex? Holy shit, when the fuck would the kid be due?!

Sans had not even thought about what would come after Papyrus’ pregnancy. He had expected to have a little more time to prepare himself but… Papyrus walked past him out into the living room. Judging by how large he was he didn’t think he’d have long.

Not feeling like finishing eating, he put his plate in the sink and cleaned up his mess.

 

Nervously, he rounded the corner of the kitchen to see Papyrus lying on the couch, watching TV. Taking a calming breath, he went over and joined him, taking the far end. Papyrus was a little too tall for them both to have room, so he started to sit on the armrest when he heard his brother scold him, “You’ll ruin the chair, dumbass.” Before Sans could say anything more, Papyrus leaned forward and wrapped his hands about his waist. The taller skeleton then directed him to sit in between his legs. Sans’ face flushed a beaming red as he was brought to lie with his head resting against Papyrus’ stomach.

Papyrus did not seem the least bit embarrassed. He huffed absently above him, and went back to watching whatever it was that had caught his fancy.

 

Sans soon relaxed as he realized Papyrus was not upset by all that had happened. He let himself sink into the couch, enjoying the feeling of safety that the closeness of his brother provided. He lazily blinked at the television, not really caring about what was going on in the show. He let himself drift off as he was reminded how little sleep he’d had lately.

 

His eyes shot open as he felt something hit against his skull.

He rolled over onto his stomach, facing the bump that he had used as a pillow moments before. A faint light was gently shining from underneath the black shirt, lighting his face aglow. Placing a hand on his brother’s belly, he gasped as he felt the soul inside shift and move again. He looked up to see that Papyrus was watching him quietly, his face unreadable.

 

Sans coughed, and sheepishly pulled his hand away.

 

Papyrus caught him by the wrist, and placed it back on the womb, covering his hand with his own. “Might as well get used to it.” He mumbled under his breath.

Sans felt his cheeks flush even more than before. Though Papyrus had kept his tone even, Sans could see the way his eye trained on the light inside him; Papyrus really wanted Sans to stay. As if to confirm his thought, the larger hand encasing his own gently ran a thumb over the back of his wrist.

Carefully, Sans pulled at the hem of Papyrus’ shirt. Papyrus nodded at the unspoken question and Sans lifted his shirt up.

He felt tears well in his eyes as he took in the tiny heart bobbing and bouncing, glowing and shimmering within. “Pap, it’s beautiful.”

Papyrus said nothing above him, he merely watched as Sans placed his hands on his belly, and gently rubbed the magical casing in slow, loving circles. Sans felt so much right now. He couldn’t put it into words. He just felt so warm and…and full…he didn’t have anything better to describe it. Leaning forward, he placed a tender kiss to the womb that held their unborn child.

 

“S-Sans.”

Sans looked up and felt the tears fall from his sockets.

Papyrus was crying. For the first time in Sans’ life, he saw Papyrus cry. The larger skeleton reached a thin hand forward, cupping the side of Sans’ face and caressing his cheek. A soft smile crossed Papyrus’ features as he blinked at him contentedly. Sans leaned into the touch. He felt so wonderful right now. The light from beneath him faded in and out of brightness, as if it were beating to its own rhythm.

Placing his hand over the one petting him, Sans turned and kissed its palm. The owner of the appendage sighed as Sans held his hand, entwining their fingers. He planted clanking kisses along his fingers, his knuckles, his wrist…

 

Papyrus shivered as he sighed once more, lavishing in Sans’ gentle attention.

Sans could feel his soul aching horrendously, both from his heat and from the incredible sense of belonging. He clanked his way up Papyrus’ forearm, and then his humerus, and then his collarbone…

A low moan made him turn to look at Papyrus. His cheeks were flushed a brilliant red. Tear tracks still lingered wetly on his skull. God, he looked gorgeous.

With a sigh of his own, Sans kissed him.

 

Papyrus shifted below him as he wrapped his arms about his shoulders and deepened their kiss, nuzzling their skulls together with the kind of tenderness unique only to skeletons.

Sans felt his soul burn with unbelievable desire.

“Pap.” He moaned against his teeth as he rubbed his hips against the bulge separating their hips.

 

He stopped moving when he heard a wince. “Ugh…Sans. That doesn’t feel…right.” Grunting, Papyrus eased his belly out from under Sans’ hips. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea…” He trailed off and fixed Sans with an uncertain eye.

Sans groaned low in his throat. God, his heat was hitting him so hard. But Papyrus didn’t seem to want to go forward with this, so he pulled back. He looked down to find his shorts tented in the middle, a bright red glow emanating from his dick underneath. He would have to take care of this himself.

Before he could reach down to relieve himself, he felt Papyrus get up off the seat. The other grasped him by his hips and scooted him forward so that he sat on the edge of the couch.

“what are you-?” Sans’ breath caught in his throat as Papyrus slipped a hand under his shorts. “hah! f-fuck!” He grit his teeth as Papyrus ran his hand up and down his length, purposefully moving slowly. Sans fell back into the couch, his eyes closing as his heat was finally initiated.

 

Papyrus loosed a deep, rumbling moan as he continued to pleasure him. The sound more akin to a purr. “You make such lovely sounds.” He loomed over Sans as he pulled up his shirt and swiped his tongue up his sternum. “Don’t stop.”

“P-Pap. ahn…” Sans moaned as Papyrus squeezed his member particularly roughly. “i n-need more.”

Papyrus withdrew his tongue after a long lick to his ribs. “More, hmm?”

A shiver ran up his spine as Papyrus fixed him with a hungry glint to his eye and an evil grin. He tugged off Sans’ pants and threw them aside. Sans grinned nervously as red tentacles manifested from behind Papyrus. Though, his attention was quickly brought back to watch as the younger skeleton moved his mouth dangerously close to his cock. It twitched hard enough to make Sans yelp when Papyrus’ hot breath hit it. “sh-shit. fuuuck.” Sans’ heavy lidded gaze held Papyrus’ as the long, red tongue snaked from his mouth.

He bucked hard as the appendage wrapped itself around him.

“ah! hah, nn!” Sans couldn’t keep quiet as Papyrus bobbed his head on his length. That fucking tongue. Shit!

Slim magical tentacles explored Sans’ body as their master tended to other matters. They curled about his ribs, slipping in and around them without mercy. Another took to caring for his spine, alternating squeezing and pumping along his vertebrae. He struggled to keep from closing his eyes. He wanted to watch every second of this. The larger skeleton moaned, the vibration traveling through his tongue to afflict Sans. His hands shot forward and grasped hard at Papyrus’ collarbone. “f-fuck! hnn, Pap!” He could hardly keep himself together. The skeleton chuckled around his cock. Sans’ hands were removed in an instant as magic restrained him. He panted heavily, his mind was overrun with pleasure. He swore Pap’s tongue had a mind of its own as it tugged, rolled, and squeezed around his length.

Papyrus gave him a sharp smile. Yet more magical tentacles appeared, yanking Sans’ legs apart for his brother to have better access.

Papyrus pulled back, his tongue trailing along the underside as he did do. He stopped short as he let the end curl about its head. Sans felt as if his soul was going to burst as the tip of his tongue mercilessly swirled about the head of his weeping cock. Papyrus flicked his tongue along his slit, fully enjoying the sounds his partner was making for him.

“Pap, i-im gonna come. fuck, fuck, i’m gonna…hah…” God, he was speeding to the edge fast. His ribs were all but a mass of squirming appendages, his spine fully enveloped in pulsing red magic, his cock getting sucked so fucking good…it was too fucking much.

Sans screamed in pained pleasure as Papyrus raked his sharp teeth against his sensitive magic. Before Sans could comprehend enough to get upset, Papyrus took all of him into his mouth, his tongue ravaging his scratched member with renewed vigor.

Sans came with a terrible force, his hips grinding hard as he screamed incoherently.

 

* * *

 

 

Papyrus licked the red magic from his teeth.

 

That hadn’t been as bad as he’d thought.

He would never have done this sort of thing with Sans before. He detested almost everything that had to do with helping Sans when he was in heat. Heats made a mess. A nasty, sticky, magic mess. But, considering he now shared a strange bond with Sans he figured it wasn’t anything to get huffy over anymore. After all, he was carrying his fucking kid.

And, he had to admit, the effects of such ministrations more than made up for the mess.

Sans panted on the couch, looking absolutely, positively _fucked_.

He could get used to that look. His soul beat furiously in his chest at the sight of him and at the taste of his cum that was still on his tongue. Sans cried out weakly as Papyrus retracted the magical tentacles, making sure they teased at his oversensitive bones. He groaned at Sans’ expense as he let his grip on the conjured tentacles dissipate. God, it felt hot in here.

He tried to push the feeling away as he joined Sans on the couch. His brother was so worn, it was no trouble at all for Papyrus to reposition him so that he sat beside him, his head leaning against his shoulder. Papyrus wrapped his arm around Sans’ waist and pulled him close, the sound of his breathing slowing into a steadying calm helped him relax.

 

After he was certain Sans was asleep, he removed himself carefully. He shifted Sans into his arms, cradling him close to his chest. The meal Sans had made for him earlier had all but returned him to his former glory. Even pregnant, Papyrus was a strong motherfucker. He easily carried Sans' small frame, though it took him a little longer than it normally would to get upstairs.

He began to walk past his room to place Sans in his own bed, but he stopped. Looking down at the sleeping bundle of bones in his arms he decided that there was no shame in him sleeping in his room with him.

 

Gently, he laid Sans on his bed and tucked him under the covers.

Not even bothering to try to put on his surely too-small nightclothes, he got into bed. He wrapped himself about the still-sleeping Sans and rested his chin against the top of his skull. He sighed contently and settled in to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

Sans couldn’t stop grinning.

 

That had been the best night of his whole goddamn life.

He sighed dreamily at his sentry post. God fucking damn. It was almost like Papyrus _knew_ what his dirty mind wanted. He laughed to himself with a blush. He hoped to god that wasn’t a onetime thing. The way Papyrus had looked at him, determined and more than eager to please him. His smile deepened. Papyrus…happy to actually help him with his heat. Helping him with his heat _without Sans begging._ Heh, it really was something else.

Papyrus had looked so amazing too.

His cheeks brightly lit from Sans gently touching him. Tears still clinging to him from genuine happiness… Sans honestly didn’t think he could forget that look. He felt his soul beat with a low thrum.

God, he loved him. If he had been uncertain of his feelings before, he was certain of them now.

He had looked so proud and so happy and yet so worried when Sans had kissed his pregnant belly.

 

And the soul.

His cheekbones flushed further. The soul had moved. He had felt it right beneath his hands. Sans absently reached under the counter and pulled out a bottle of mustard. God, Pap was going to pop any day, wasn’t he?

He opened the bottle.

He was actually going to meet the soul that they had made together, that Pap had carried. That had given him such an intense feeling of love and happiness.

He brought the nozzle to his lips.

 

Would Sans be a good dad?

 

He frowned as he suddenly realized that he had a drink in his hand. Taking the nozzle from his teeth, he stared at the yellow substance within the bottle. For umpteen years he’d been drinking the stuff. It was almost an unconscious thing for him anymore, drinking. It was one of the few ways Sans could lose himself. When he drank the pains of failure seemed to fade. He could drift into a state of dulled drunkenness and feel himself disappear. On some days he could even convince himself that he had disappeared, swallowed whole by his drink. And he would relish the memory of feeling empty, of not feeling, of not being.

Those memories used to bring him comfort.

 

The past two days had been some of the most terrifying and amazing days of his life. Fraught with fear, grief, anger, happiness, and love. He had felt more over the past few days than he had throughout most of his life.

 

Sans let the bottle slip from his grasp and roll off the counter into the snow.

 

Feeling the soul move within Papyrus… Hearing his brother laugh… Seeing him smile softly…

 

In a flurry, he got up from his post.

He reached under the counter and yanked out all of the bottles, tossing them out into the snow. He felt alive. Sans hadn’t even realized he’d been breathing so fast as sweat dotted his brow bone. Once the stand lie barren, he looked out behind him. Yellow bottles dotted the otherwise calm blanket of white. Summoning his magic, he called the items to him. He gave them all a once over in disgust, realizing just how much he hated the taste of it after all. With a flick of his fingers he sent them all slamming into the forest, a cacophony of shattering glass and frightened animals breaking the silence.

He didn’t need it anymore.

 

He had better memories now.

 

 

* * *

 

 

God, it felt like he’d been sleeping a lot lately.

 

Papyrus stretched, a blissful moan leaving him as his spine and shoulders popped. He rolled over onto his side, and reached out-

His eye opened to see that the body that had been lying beside him was gone.  Sans had left.

 

With a groan, he curled further into the blankets.

His stomach hurt.

It was a dull ache, not too unlike hunger he guessed. He was unfamiliar with pain not associated with bones, and this particular pain was hard to place. He huffed and brought the pillow on the other side of the bed over and spooned his body around it. The extra padding seemed to help a little.

Papyrus closed his eyes for a while, not quite sleeping, until he felt the soul move inside him.

 

“Why do you have to be a dick all the time?” He grumbled into his pillow.

The soul did not answer. It happily continued squirming for a few more seconds before it calmed.

 

When the acute pain died away, Papyrus carefully rolled himself out of bed. He looked at the clock and felt a momentary panic at the time, but soon relaxed. Not like he needed to go into work. The other guards knew he was pregnant, and he certainly didn’t want to risk being alone with a pack of dogs. So, guard duty was off his list of things to do. He looked at the clock again, as if to be doubly sure of the time. He had already slept in quite late, but he had a good four hours before Sans got done with his shift.

What the hell was he going to do all day?

Grunting, he stood, feeling his spine ache from the weight in his front.

 

He supposed he’d find something to keep him busy.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sans felt amazing.

 

He sat at his sentry post, feeling like he had just accomplished something tremendous. That was it, no more drinking. He was done. He was finished. He never wanted to see the shit again.

 

He needed to, for the kid.

“heh heh.” He laughed to himself, watching stray snowflakes fall. “dad of the fucking year, right here.” Honestly, he hoped that was true. Nervousness shot through his bones. What if the kid didn’t like him? He sighed, the coolness of the air meeting his magic-warmed breath to create billows of steam.

Then he’d have to try harder.

He laughed at his subconscious’ attempt at being motivational.

What was this? Some kind of fortune cookie shit?

 

His eyes fell to look at his hands, wringing themselves in anxiety. He really did want to be a good dad. But how was he supposed to know how? Its not like kids came with an instruction book. Hell, even his own dad-

 

He blinked, feeling like he had something caught on the tip of his tongue. What had he been thinking about again? Oh, right. Kids didn’t come with a manual.

In fact, he didn’t even know how to deal with Papyrus being pregnant. He didn’t know the first thing about kids, or babies, or pregnancies…

He looked down at the clock with alarm.

His shift was up.

 

Sans began the long trek home, deciding to actually walk instead of short-cut his way home. As much as he wanted to see Papyrus, he needed to think things through.

He walked past the regular shops and homes, as he always did. He barely noticed that they were there anymore. But something caught his eye.

“Librarby” read the misspelled sign above the disheveled building. It was one of the most damaged building in the town, no one caring to patch it up because of how little anyone used it. Who had time to relax with a good book when each day could be your last?

Sans had honestly never even been inside.

 

Guiltily, he turned to look back at the path that led home. Should he really be letting himself get side tracked? With a sigh, he went inside.

 

It wasn’t what he had expected.

The inside was considerably clean and well-kept despite its intimidating exterior. He was greeted warmly…too warmly…by the front receptionist.

“Oh! Hello!” The green monster seemed tickled to death that someone had actually come inside. “How are you? Have you come by to try out some of our crosswords?”

“what? no.” Sans shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. He didn’t like this guy. “i’m just looking-”

“Anything I can help you find?”

 

Sans stared at him in disgust. He wanted to punch his goddamn glasses off his stupid face. “no. i said i’m just looking.” Without waiting for another too-happy quip from the monster, he turned and went to look at what the bookcases had to offer.

Fiction, Non-fiction, Autobiographies, History… Sans stopped at a particularly interesting section: Instructionals.

Even after a quick scan he wasn’t too impressed with what they had to offer: “How to Train Your Dragon-friend”, “How Not to Die”, “101 Uses for Snails”, “Magic for Dummies”.  They all looked beyond useless. No wonder nobody came here.

Just as he was about to call it quits and head home, a title caught his eye: “Pregnancy Guide for Expectant Moms” _Expectant Moms._ God that was rich.

 

With a smirk, he reached out to take the book-

“Are you expecting?”

“fuck!” Sans flinched as the goddamn, too-happy, cunt-faced, assbag librarian startled him. Was he watching him the whole time?! “mind your fucking business!” He snapped.

The asshole just wouldn’t take the hint. “Well, if you need anything, just ask!”

Sans watched in stunned annoyance as the guy finally left. Once alone, he grabbed the book off the shelf and went to go sit at the immaculate tables near the front.

 

It wasn’t a very big book. Maybe about the thickness of his hand, which wasn’t all that large considering he was nothing but bone. He ran bony fingers over the cover, chuckling under his breath at the thought of Papyrus being a “Mom” according to this book. He opened the book and was surprised to find that it was on human pregnancies. Drawn pictures of humans with large bulges in their middles were on every page, along with shrivelly raisin looking tiny humans. Oh, god. Was that what baby humans looked like? He felt a bit queezy as he flipped through the pages that detailed stages of pregnancy: first trimester, second trimester, third trimester. “sounds like they’re overcomplicating this.” None of this looked applicable to skeletons…despite the humans having similar calcium structures.

He trained his eye on the page dedicated to the third trimester, the picture of the human was depicted as a skeleton, better showing the growing human within reference of the skeletal system. Sans felt a sudden epiphany at the drawing. It looked an awful lot like Papyrus…if he squinted. Minus the human baby, of course. The shape and size of the stomach…

 

His soul felt like it’d been shocked as he read the inscriptions for this stage. If this book was to be believed, his brother was pretty fucking close. Now, he didn’t think the book was completely applicable, after all, it seemed like it took humans 8 months to get to the stage that Papyrus was at.

He skimmed through more of the book, reading about complications and symptoms. Things like constipation, heartburn, frequent urination, and swollen ankles were all null-points. Something else caught his eye though. Contractions. Even just reading about it made him squirm in his seat. God, he hoped Pap didn’t have this. Though, the fact that he didn’t have muscles probably meant that he wouldn’t.

 

Sans looked up at the clock on the wall.

He’d been there for almost 2 hours. “shit!” He got up from his chair suddenly and bolted for the door, book clasped tightly in his hand.

The fucking librarian called out after him as he burst through the doors into the snow, “Come again!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sans was late.

 

The house was spotless. He’d cleaned everything top to bottom.

His feet hurt something awful, his Tarsal bones pulsing from soreness.

 

He sighed as he sat on the couch, watching more television. It was all he could really do. And – as much as he secretly enjoyed Mettaton’s dramatic soap operas – he was growing bored. He wasn’t used to lazing around. His leg bounced impatiently as he looked at the clock again.

It’d been a half an hour since his shift had ended.

 

What if he doesn’t like me?

His soul panged sharply at the thought. That was impossible. Of course Sans liked him! He was his brother!

What if he doesn’t want the kid?

His eye shifted down to his bump. Sans had said that he wanted to help…

 

Sans had lied before.

 

Papyrus felt ill. His soul strained in his chest as the light within him brightened momentarily before dimming back down.

Sans wouldn’t lie about that…would he?

He just wasn’t sure anymore about Sans. He had been so wrong before. He thought he had known Sans. After all, he had watched over his brother ever since they were little. He had thought Sans didn’t take responsibility. He had thought Sans was a coward. He had thought Sans couldn’t kill.

Sans had proven all of those assumptions wrong.

 

Or had he?

Maybe it was Papyrus who was the fool. Played and used for the personal gain of his brother. He looked down at his hands in thought. He didn’t like these thoughts.

They frightened him.

 

Papyrus loved Sans.

He shifted in his seat anxiously, his soul still giving off a faint glow from the other night.

He loved Sans probably more than he would admit to. The way Sans had stood up for him and fought back to protect him, the way Sans took it upon himself to make sure Papyrus was well-fed and taken care of, the way Sans had shown him such care as they had touched and embraced.

He blinked away tears that welled in his good socket.

That had to mean something, right?

 

He looked back at the clock.

An hour since Sans’ shift had ended.

 

It was almost like nothing had changed.

Papyrus sighed, remembering all the times he’d come home to an empty house. It had seemed like the only time Sans wanted anything to do with him was when he was in heat. Papyrus was a tough monster, yes, but he craved attention like any other creature. He hated coming home and being alone. Stabbing pains of loneliness the only thing to greet him after a long day, followed by a call from Grillby’s.

 

Grillby’s.

 

Though the late Grillby was no more, he knew Sans kept bottles of mustard everywhere.

Sans hadn’t…gone to drink had he?

Sans wouldn’t leave him here to go get drunk…would he?

 

Two hours since Sans’ shift had ended.

 


	13. Chapter 13

Sans was finally home after sprinting the rest of the way.

 

Huffing, he stopped at the door to catch his breath. All the lights were on in their grimy little house. Inside, Papyrus was waiting for him. Shit, he was going to be so pissed. Sans had just placed his hand on the doorknob when he was reminded of the book in his hand. Whoops. He hadn’t meant to actually take the thing home. He must have done it in his haste.

He felt a wave of embarrassment at the thought of Papyrus seeing him with a baby book. He might even be offended, what with the book being for _Expectant Moms_ and all that. He rolled his eyes. Papyrus was such a fucking diva.

After some difficulty, he tried to hide the book inside his jacket. It looked a little bulky, but he figure if he acted aloof Papyrus might not notice and question him.

 

Almost as soon as he’d opened the door, he was snatched off his feet.

“WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?”

“shit, boss! i just got through the door!” Sans tried to keep from laughing at Papyrus’ overprotectiveness. “give a guy a minute!”

Fuck, maybe he had more in common with pregnant humans than he thought. Papyrus might be a hothead, but he never attacked Sans out of the fucking blue for no goddamn reason. Usually he at least scolded him before that. Nagged him about what it was he had done to incur the wrath of “The Great Papyrus”. What was it the book had said? Something about hormones or some shit? Mood swings or whatever? Papyrus was definitely emotional as fuck.

 

“ANSWER ME!” Papyrus shook him roughly, causing his shoe to fly off his foot. The jarring made his skull buzz.

“Pap, what the hell?! calm down, you’re just fucking moody!”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized that was the stupidest thing he could have ever said.

Papyrus’ expression darkened, his red eye seeming to blaze to life with red fire. “Moody?” He hissed in a low, dangerous whisper.

Sans screamed as he was suddenly thrown across the room.

His head crashed into the far wall with enough force to make his vision swim. It came back into focus right before he saw Papyrus pin him to the floor with a boot to his chest. “w-wait! Pap-”

The foot pressed down onto his ribcage with a creak of protest from his bones.

 

“YOU, USELESS!”

Sans gasped as the air was crushed from his chest.

“SPINELESS!”

He clawed at the boot pushing him into the floor.

“UNGRATEFUL _SACK OF SHIT_!”

Sans cried out as a crack shot through his sternum.

Papyrus watched him coldly from above, fully intending on squashing him like a bug.

 

“DO YOU HATE ME THAT MUCH?!”

Sans stopped his desperate attempt to escape as he cast his eyes up at his brother. He felt an odd sense of déjà vu, seeing his brother so distraught at his expense.

 

 

It was like he had been transported back years and years ago.

 

It had been a relatively snowy day when Sans had started at his new sentry job. He had taken the job in order to make money so he and Papyrus could eat. Well…that’s what he had told Papyrus anyways. The real reason he took sentry was so that he could be alone to feed his growing habit: drinking. It had started out harmless enough, he had dug around in trash cans for food when he came across a half-empty bottle of mustard. Being so hungry, he had drank it all to himself, despite the bite it had. The effects the drink had on his young body were severe and fulfilling. They took all the grievance he had for this world away. Made his mind stop worrying, stop thinking, stop feeling.

After that, all he wanted was more.

And he used the money from his sentry duty to get himself more.

 

After a while, Papyrus had begun to notice that there was something different about Sans. Though he was too naïve at the time to know exactly what it was. He would trail after him when he would come back to their little “home” in the dark caverns of Waterfall. He had no way of knowing that his brother was drunk off his ass, so Sans would always tell him he was “sick”. Papyrus would always offer to cook for him to make him feel “all better”. He had always tried to make him soup, spaghetti, and all other sorts of food to banish his feigned sickness. Papyrus had been a sweet kid. He looked up to Sans, literally and figuratively. He was always talking about how he wanted to grow up to be a guard, he wanted to help protect the kingdom like his big brother, Sans The Sentry.

Papyrus loved him…for some reason.

 

The shift in their relationship had happened late one day.

Sans didn’t have enough money to pay for his drink at Grillby’s and had slipped out of the bar with a bottle of mustard tucked in his jacket. He shuffled home, already preparing himself for the ankle-biter-at-home’s worried nagging.

What he hadn’t expected was the hand that had grabbed him by his shirt collar.

 

“fuck!” He had slurred as he was brought to face the bartender he knew as Grillby.

“You have something that belongs to me, whelp.” He had hissed as a hot hand yanked the empty bottle of mustard from his jacket. Grillby had scowled in disgust at how quickly Sans had drowned himself. He had kicked his legs out from under him and laughed as Sans could barely scramble to his knees without falling into a heap in the snow. “You’re a pathetic excuse for a monster. Taking drinks without paying…”

Sans had said nothing. He felt too numb to feel the sting of his words.

“You’ve got to pay somehow,” He felt nothing as a ball of fire erupted onto Grillby’s palm. “Cause I don’t _do_ tabs, kid.”

 

He had thought that was the end for him.

 

“SANS!”

A small bone attack came rushing up from the ground, hitting Grillby harshly in the shin. The fire monster had growled and fallen to his knee from the sharp blow.

Papyrus had rushed forward, throwing his arms about his older brother in a huge hug. “Sans! Are you ok? I-I came to bring you supper and oh, god are you hurt?” He had looked so worried and afraid for him.

 

When he should have been worried for himself.

Grillby had kicked Papyrus harshly, sending him flopping end over end into the snow. Just when Grillby thought he could get back to dealing with Sans, Papyrus had come running right back.

“FUCK OFF! LEAVE SANS ALONE!” He screamed, conjuring a massive amount of magic for him being a child. But, even so, he was still too young to be well-acquainted with his skills. The attacks he had loosed were made up of brittle, underdeveloped bones. He flung them at the much stronger monster, trying his hardest to protect Sans.

Grillby had swatted the attacks away like one would a gnat. He had laughed at his frail attempts. “Give it up. I don’t want to have to deal with you. Just let me take care of your brother for you.” He had turned an unsympathetic eye to the worthless sack of garbage that was Sans. “You’re better off without him.”

 

“NO!” With an enormous cry, Papyrus had conjured a long-bone into his palm. “GO AWAY!” Even at such a young age, he had managed to create a fully-fledged special attack that radiated with powerful red magic. He had held it out ahead of him unsteadily, his inexperience showing through.

“Ha, look at you!” Grillby had looked impressed. “You’re pretty tough, aren’t you?”

 

Sans had wished Papyrus would just leave him to die. “Papyrus, just let him do it.” He had called, making his brother stop his onslaught. “he’s right. you’re better off without me.”

 

Papyrus’ attack had vanished at his brother’s words, his hold on it already weak to start with.

 

In that moment Papyrus had looked so sad, so tortured, so _broken_.

That face still haunted his dreams.

“Sans-”

He had made to speak, when Grillby hit him with the back of his hand. The force of the hit was weak enough to leave him alive, but hard enough to split the bone over his left eye. The small skeleton had loosed a blood-curdling scream from the blow. His body squirmed in the snow as he clutched his face from the pain, never having felt the harsh reality of a critical hit before.

 

“Papyrus!” Suddenly sobering, Sans had quickly hobbled over to his baby brother, and brought him close to his chest as he thrashed in agony.

Grillby had looked down at them with disgust. “Quit crying, kid. It’s probably a good thing I’m here. Your big brother here has been lying to you.”

“don’t!” Sans had gripped Papyrus closer.

 

“S-Sans wouldn’t lie…” Papyrus had hiccupped defiantly from his brother’s arms, disbelieving Sans would lead him astray.

A cruel grin had stretched across Grillby’s fiery face. “You’re too good for that sack of shit, kid. He doesn’t even care about you. He spends all his time at my bar. He isn’t out “training”, he isn’t “working late”, he’s just sitting at the bar, drinking.”

 

Sans had cried right then and there. He covered his face in shame, too afraid to look at his brother in his arms.

“Do you hate me that much?” It had been a soft, whisper of a question. But to Sans it was piercing.

 

Grillby had warned, “Pay it back tomorrow, runt.” And then he had left the little family, not caring that their world had been torn apart.

 

After that, Papyrus had dedicated himself to training. Somehow managing to get the head of the Royal Guard to take him on as an apprentice. He had trained and trained until he was a killing machine. A true force to be reckoned with.

He had brought in money for them, real money, and gotten them the house that they now lived in. Even after all that Sans had done to him, he still took care of him. He nagged his bad habits, he roughed him up if he did something wrong, and he fought for him when he was in danger.

He had even made Grillby take a rain check on his “no tabs” policy.

 

It was hard to say why Papyrus still stood by Sans all these years.

 

 

He was brought back to the present as he saw large tears fall from his brother’s eye.

Papyrus panted heavily above him, his eye emitting an effervescent trail of red magic. Though tears were streaming heavily from his socket, he looked absolutely terrifying. The only thing that broke the intimidating scene was the strain of his voice, “What have I done to make you hate me so much, Sans?”

His soul wrenched in his chest.

Papyrus sounded so…broken.

 

“Pap…w-what’s wrong?”

“YOU KNOW WHAT’S WRONG, YOU WASTE OF LIFE!” Papyrus screeched down at him with renewed force, his heel digging further into his ribs. “YOU’VE BEEN OUT DRINKING. RUNNING AWAY INTO YOUR BOTTLE LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO!”

“I thought…” Sans felt the pressure on his ribs lift considerably. “I thought…that maybe things had changed.” The fight in Papyrus’ eye was all but gone.

Sans gently pushed aside the foot holding him to the floor. “things have changed Pap! i’ve given up drinking! i haven’t had a drink since yesterday.” Papyrus made no move to stop him as he picked himself up off the ground.

“I want to believe in you…” Papyrus sighed and fixed him with a cold stare. “But I can’t.”

 

The comment hit Sans straight down to the marrow.

 

“Pap, no…please!” He had to make him believe him. “just…just let me prove it! let me prove myself!” An idea formed in his mind. “c’mere, Pap.” He motioned with a curl of his finger for him to lean down.

 

For a moment, Sans didn’t think Papyrus would listen. But then, he bent forward, the look of utter disappointment painfully stretched across his features.

Sans pressed his mouth to his with a clink, making the taller skeleton stiffen in shock.

“What are you-?”

“do i smell like i’ve been drinking?” He wormed his tongue into Papyrus’ mouth not-too-gently, gliding it over the other’s as he took advantage of his confusion. With a chuckle, Sans pulled away. “heh. do i _taste_ like i’ve been drinking?”

Papyrus shifted his eye away from Sans, looking _very_ guilty. “No, you don’t.” With a sigh, and a pinch to his brow, he looked him in the eye. “I’m…sorry.” He laughed lightly, “Nyeh heh…I suppose I am a bit more “moody” than normal.”

Sans smiled at his brother’s flustered blush. “yeah. but i know its not your fault.” He placed his hands on the other’s baby bump, and chuckled. “all that extra magic’s probably getting to ya.” With a sigh, he looked up at the taller skeleton, feeling like he needed to rectify his past actions. “Pap, i wanted to tell you-”

 

He was cut off by a loud cry from Papyrus.

 

Sans stood stunned as Papyrus hunched in on himself, his arms wrapping about his middle. Sweat beaded his forehead as his breath came in ragged huffs. Shaking himself from his shock, Sans put his hands on Papyrus’ arm.

“FUCK OFF!” Papyrus screeched. He squeezed his eye shut tightly as if he were in great pain. Papyrus seemed unsteady on his feet, his concern most prominently focused on whatever was causing him to react in such a way.

Fearing that Papyrus might fall over and hurt himself or the soul, Sans gripped his arms tightly and helped direct his brother to the couch.

Papyrus’ breathing sped up, nearly on the verge of hyperventilation. He looked to Sans, his eye wide with fear and his voice shaky. “Oh my god! They’re _dying_ , Sans!” Papyrus was shaking harshly, small whimpers breaking from his mouth as he let Sans set him onto the couch. “What the hell did I do wrong? Shit, Sans, _they’re dying_!” He sobbed loudly as he began to cry from the grief.

Sans was so fucking glad he’d gone to the librarby. Papyrus was showing all the signs of going through contractions. The pregnant skeleton was a wracking mess, his stress only making things worse. Sans needed to calm him down. “Papyrus! Pap, look at me.” Sans gently guided Papyrus’ chin up so that he could lock eyes with his brother. “you’re having contractions. its normal.”

Papyrus blinked up at him, his good socket fixing on him for dear life. “N-normal?”

“yeah, its ok.” Sans pulled him into a hug, not minding it when Papyrus dug his fingers roughly into his back. They rode out the moment together, Sans not letting him go even for a second. He gently rocked them until he felt the other’s shivers calm.

 

Papyrus loosed a long, exhausted sigh against his shoulder.

“Papyrus…” Sans pulled back and looked over his brother. He looked tired from the emotional rollercoaster, but other than that he seemed ok. “i don’t hate you. i-”

 

Papyrus laughed lightly. “I know. I know that. I was just really emotional and-”

“Pap, listen for a second.” His younger brother looked at him in both surprise and expectation. For a second, Sans could almost imagine him when he was just a kid. So much happier and eyes full of life. But that wasn’t who this was now. This was a warrior. Battle-scarred, cunning, and mistrusting of all things. Sans reached a hand up and placed it on his left cheek, causing him to flinch in surprise.

“Sans?”

He shushed him lightly as he ran a thumb along the ridge of his cheekbone, gently running along the outermost edge of his ruined left socket. He had given up his eye for him.

“Nyeh heh.” Papyrus laughed nervously with a wince. “That…kind of hurts a bit, Sans.”

Sans looked back into his good eye, knowing that his brother was confused by his actions.

He planned on clearing things up for him real quick.

“i love you, Pap.”

 

Papyrus’ jaw dropped quite comically before he quickly righted himself with a laugh, “I love you too, Sans. You’re my brother, after all…”

God, he was going to have to spell it out for him.

“no, Pap. i mean,” He pulled him in close, so that their faces were mere inches apart.

 

“i _love_ you.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I'm keeping these guys in-character. it's becoming increasingly difficult with these next few chapters.

 

God, he finally said it. After all these goddamn years, he said it.

He loved Papyrus.

 

 

Sans crushed their mouths together again, licking along the other’s sharp teeth.

He ran his hands along his back, tracing the vertebrae with his fingers.

Papyrus sighed into his mouth. Sans took advantage of the opening and slipped his tongue inside, though he had no hope of overpowering his brother’s much larger, longer tongue. The younger skeleton groaned with new vigor as he shifted the balance of dominance, shoving Sans’ tongue aside to ravage his mouth.

Sans whimpered as Papyrus slid his hands underneath his shirt, the tips of his fingers gently scraping over his ribs and-

 

 

“Hmm?” Papyrus broke from their kiss with a wet sound.

Sans looked down to see that Papyrus had found the book he’d taken from the library.

 

 

Sans cursed under his breath. Goddamnit. Now Papyrus was going to be pissy again.

Not wanting to stick around for the embarrassment (and most probably argument), he decided to try and see if he could distract him with something from the kitchen. “i’m going to go grab a snack, do ya need anything, boss?”

“Um…sure.” Papyrus looked up from the book in his grasp, surprised. A light blush crossed his cheeks as he mumbled something that Sans couldn’t understand.

“what was that?”

He shot an intense glare at his older brother before he coughed in embarrassment, “Ah-hem, I said…hotdogs and spaghetti sauce.”

Sans felt a smirk tingle the edges of his mouth, but for the safety of his health he bit it back. “y-you got it, boss!” He all but ran into the kitchen, where he finally let his grin go free. Hotdogs and spaghetti sauce? Pfft! Who the hell was sitting on the couch and where was Papyrus? Quietly he chuckled to himself and grabbed the leftover hotdogs from yesterday out of the fridge. After heating them up on the stove, he grabbed a jar of spaghetti sauce from the cabinet. The lid came off with an audible pop.

“Can you just bring the jar?” Papyrus called out from the living room.

 

 

What? Sans blinked in surprise, but decided not to question it. “s-sure? whatever ya want, bro!”

Cold spaghetti sauce and hotdogs?

 

 

When he finished plating up the hotdogs, he grabbed the jar of store-bought sauce and brought it to Papyrus.

He looked a bit flustered, his leg bouncing up and down in…possibly impatience? Sans didn’t think he took that long. Papyrus sat up straight on the couch at his approach and quickly accepted the food items Sans offered. “Thank you.” He laid the plate on his bony lap, and cupped the spaghetti sauce jar in his hand like one would hold a mug of coffee.

 

 

Sans tried not to stare as Papyrus picked up a hotdog from the plate with his hand (not using the fork for some reason), and then proceeded to dip it into the jar of sauce. The dog was completely covered in the sweet red sauce as Papyrus took a massive bite. He seemed to relish the taste as he chewed, sighing contently.

How could that possibly be good?

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Sans had all but jumped up off the couch to go get him what he had requested. And Papyrus was relieved that he didn’t question it, because honestly, he didn’t know why that sounded so good.

 

 

Papyrus sighed and relaxed back into the couch. He was a little glad he could be alone for a little bit.

He felt like an idiot.

 

 

no, Pap. i mean, i _love_ you.

The words rang in his head like a concussive hit to the head.

Papyrus didn’t know what to feel.

He hadn’t expected this. He hadn’t expected this in a million years. He couldn’t even _imagine_ this ever happening.

Did he love Sans? Yes. Yes, he did so unbelievably much. He had always loved him. He had always wanted what was best for him. He had always wanted to make him happy.

He had spent his entire _life_ trying to make Sans love him. From cooking to cleaning, from bickering with him to fighting for him, from trying to help him break his habits to giving in to his unpleasant requests for release.

 

 

He could have just as easily left Sans to his own devices.

In fact, he probably should have. Sans had caused him nothing but trouble their entire lives. And yet…Sans was the only the only thing that remained constant in his life. The only thing that he continually saw as his.

 

 

Papyrus looked down at the book in his hands. The book that Sans had been hiding in his jacket: “Pregnancy Guide for Expectant Moms” Papyrus quickly stifled his laughter in the crook of his arm. What?! Why was Sans hiding this? What the hell _was_ this?

Still shaking with silent laughter, he opened the book.

The inside wasn’t quite as funny.

Papyrus couldn’t pry his eyes from the drawings of pregnant humans with smaller, slightly deformed humans curled inside of their middles.

He felt the soul inside him pulse, probably from the apprehension its caretaker felt.

He rested a bony hand on the large bulge of his middle, grounding himself with the small movements of the life inside him. The past few days had been a dizzying ordeal. Papyrus had been all but flung from one problem to the next, rarely given a moment to collect himself.

 

 

But now…he had time to think.

He truly hadn’t expected to live this long. He didn’t expect to have to deal with this up until this point. Yet, here he was, sitting on the couch, dressed comfortably, safe, warm, and getting ready to eat hotdogs and spaghetti sauce. He clacked his teeth in nervous contemplation.

He didn’t feel ready. In fact, had he ever even _been_ ready to begin with?

Questions upon questions buzzed through his skull: How would the soul manifest? What would the baby look like? Would they need to do anything special for them? What the hell did baby skeletons eat anyways? Did they have a bed for them? Would they be able to protect them? What would they do when they got older?

 

 

He heard the sound of a jar lid popping.

His mouth watered at the thought of the tangy sweet sauce, and for some reason he felt that it might go better with the hotdogs if it were cold. He called out to Sans, hoping he could catch him before he warmed it up, “Can you just bring the jar?”

Thankfully, he had caught him in time. Sans replied back, “s-sure?” sounding a little confused before he cheerfully covered it up, “whatever ya want, bro!”

 

 

…Had he even thought about a name?!

 

 

He put a hand to his face and sighed. This was all becoming too real.

He felt like the worst caretaker in the world right now.

Papyrus was a great soldier. He took careful account of almost everything that he did. He liked having a regime and he stuck to it as if it were his duty. He liked everything to be planned, organized, and prepared. None of _this_ fit into his regime that was for damn sure. He was not prepared for any of this.

 

 

Huffing in exasperation, he tried to turn back to the book in his hands. He searched in its pages with a thimble of hope, as if he might find the answers somewhere within. All that he could see were pages and pages of advice about how to help with “morning sickness”, “losing baby weight”, and…sex advice?

What the hell kind of book…?

With a sniff he tossed the book aside. Nothing in there was helpful.

 

Sans came out with a plate of hotdogs and a jar of spaghetti sauce.

“Thank you.” Papyrus took it from him readily, the soul inside him was quivering with the anticipation. He grabbed hold of a hotdog and stuck it into the jar. It was barbaric, but the fork would have made the process too difficult.

He munched away as Sans turned on the television.

God, it was amazing! Why hadn’t he tried this before?

 

 

 

Even after the last bite of his food, Papyrus stayed silent.

The air felt tense, and he knew it was his fault. He picked at his plate with the tip of his finger. His soul was beating furiously in his chest. Sans had confessed his feelings to him, but Papyrus still felt fear. He had tried to keep from loving him for all of his life. He had tried to keep his feelings tucked away, shielding them behind gruff words. Now that this was real, now that he was allowed to feel this way, now that he knew it was ok, he felt apprehensive.

Would they really have a good life together?

Sans said he loved him now… but would he continue to love him?

 

 

His mind racing, he barely noticed Sans get up off the couch, before he heard him call from the bottom of the steps, “g’night…boss.”

Papyrus snapped up out of his thoughts, watching Sans trudge up the stairs and go to his room.

But not Papyrus’ room, his own room. He apparently intended on not going to sleep with Papyrus tonight.

 

 

Papyrus covered his face with his hands and gave a quiet, exasperated shriek. Why was he such an idiot?! What the fuck was WRONG with him?! He was _The_ _Great, Motherfucking, Papyrus_ for fuck’s sake! And he wouldn’t let something like stupid-ass inhibitions get in his goddamn way!

Filled with determination, he practically lept from the couch (as much as his pregnant belly would allow him to jump up anyway). He stomped his way to the stairs…and then made his way up the stairs with quite a bit of difficulty, but then he proceeded to stomp his way down the hall to Sans’ room. All but kicking down Sans’ door, he barged in.

“SANS! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?”

Sans was curled up on his dirty mattress, facing the wall. He called out over his shoulder, “what do you mean, “what the fuck am i doing”? i’m sleeping.” Though the echo from the wall distorted his voice slightly, it did not mask the thickness it held.

Papyrus was too fucking impatient for word games. He went over, grabbed Sans’ shoulder and rolled him over. “WHY ARE YOU SLEEPING IN-” His words died on his tongue.

 

 

Sans was crying, large tears streaming down his face. He laughed humorlessly, “heh heh! well, i thought that since we were brothers we should sleep in separate rooms, right?” The fake grin that he plastered on his face for Papyrus was heartbreaking. “i-it’s what you want…right?”

“Sans.” Papyrus pulled him into his arms, letting him sob into his shoulder. “Sans, I’m sorry. I just felt so…scared. You don’t…” Sans sniffled against his shoulder. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”

The smaller skeleton tore himself from his hug, teary red eyes searching him. “what?”

Taking a calming breath, Papyrus spoke, “Sans, I’ve loved you for a long, _long_ time. I’ve always loved you.” He placed a hand to his cheek and wiped away a tear from his socket.

 

 

“And I’m so happy to have heard that you feel the same.”


	15. Chapter 15 -REWRITTEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was EXTREMELY unhappy with this chapter. Honestly, I'm ashamed that I even put it out as I had. Please accept this (hopefully) better version.

 

 

Sans brought their skulls together in a clanking kiss.

 

 

Papyrus, though taken aback by the sudden vigorous kiss, was soon eagerly returning his affection. He wrapped his arms about Sans, pulling him close in a tight embrace, not caring that they were on Sans’ dirty mattress.

“goddamnit, Pap.” Sans groaned against his mouth as he caught his breath, his soul pounding against his ribs. He had never felt so happy in his shitty, miserable life. “Papyrus, why the fuck didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Papyrus broke himself away, his eye holding his gaze. “I thought you hated me. All those years you spent at the bar…I thought that maybe you were avoiding me…” He trailed off, as if uncertain.

Sans quickly interjected, “hell no, Pap! i-i was just a fucking piece of garbage. i…i hated my life, Pap. i just wanted to die-”

In the blink of an eye, Papyrus snatched him by his shirt collar and brought him close so that their faces were only inches apart. The hand about his shirt tightened its grip, making Sans choke ever so slightly. The way he looked at Sans just now, the way he held him with such a fierce, penetrating gaze made his words bite, “Don’t ever say something like that again.” He gave him no room to argue as he kissed him roughly, angrily, his teeth scraping against his with a grinding force.

Sans went limp in his arms, allowing his brother to take him. Papyrus groaned against his teeth, moving to lick and kiss along his jaw. He trailed from his jaw to his neck, whispering against his bones, “Don’t say that, Sans. Don’t ever say that.”

Sans’ moaned and exposed his throat for him, lavishing in the gentle praise and affection.

 

 

Papyrus ran his hands up his shirt, his fingers brushing against his ribs. Sans sighed at the touch, his soft sound soon quieted by his lover’s kiss.

The larger skeleton broke away, making Sans whine gently at the loss. Papyrus pulled Sans’ shirt and jacket up over his head, and tossed them aside. “Pap…” He sighed as the other began to kiss along his sternum, his hands caressing his ribs in the way he knew he loved. “ahh...” Sans clenched his hands about his shoulders, making Papyrus groan as he licked along his collarbone.

A deep, husky voice hushed against his sensitive bones. “Say you’re mine, Sans.”  

Sans shivered as he felt the ghosting sharpness of teeth at the crook of his neck. “hah, Pap!” His body shook with anticipation as he felt his brother’s fangs scrape lightly over the bones, a tongue running along soon after to sweeten the sting. “i-i’m yours…Pap.”

“Good.”

He cried out in pained pleasure as he felt a sharp stab in the crook of his shoulder. “a-ah! P-Papyrus!” The fangs embedded in his bones only sank in deeper as Sans dug his phalanges into Papyrus’ shoulder blades. Papyrus rumbled out a feral growl against his bones as Sans felt his hp go down by the slightest fraction.

However, he did not feel afraid. Papyrus loved him. He would never hurt him.

A burning hot tongue swiped over the wound, his bite deep enough to cause marrow to well to the surface. Sans moaned at the intense feeling, his mind foggy.

Papyrus was not finished with him yet though, he placed several more possessive bites and scrapes along his neck, his collarbone, his sternum. Sans could only lie back and groan, the incredible feeling of being hurt and then pleasured was enough to make his soul sing.

 

 

He was barely aware of anything but the touch of his lover, his mouth moving into a kiss as he felt Papyrus’ breath against his face. The taste of his own marrow on his lover’s tongue made Sans moan loudly, his hands snaking up to grip the sides of Papyrus’ skull. He devoured his mouth, sucking on his long tongue, wanting more of him, wanting all of him.

Papyrus pulled away suddenly, gasping for air. He fixed Sans with such a lusting expression Sans swore his soul was set to burst. 

Cheeks flushed brightly, he leaned back in and whispered against his skull, “Fuck me, Sans.”

 

 

Sans felt a trill of excitement.  

But his mind was brought back to the fact that Papyrus was pregnant.

He looked down at the bulge in the skeleton’s middle, sliding his hands down to rub the womb that contained their child. “Pap, are you sure you want to do this?”

Papyrus placed a hand over his own and squeezed. “Nyeh heh. I think it’ll be fine. The book you brought home had some…interesting information.”

Sans gave him a sheepish smile before he became serious once more. “i mean, you don’t have to do this for me, boss. i’m not in heat-”

Sans stopped dead as he felt a hand move under the band of his pants.

Papyrus chuckled darkly at Sans’ surprise. “Oh, I’m not doing it for you, Sans…”

“ahn…” Sans clutched onto Papyrus’ forearm as the hand in his pants rubbed and teased his pelvis.

“ _I’m_  horny as hell.” Papyrus grinned devilishly against his mouth as he placed a closed kiss to his teeth, his hand squeezing around Sans’ pelvic arch roughly.

“f-fuck, Pap!” God, that was hot. He bucked into his hand, his magic already forming his cock.

 

 

Papyrus laughed and pulled his pants down, the hem of his shorts tugging on his member.

Sans cried out as the clothing was torn off of him all at once, his member springing free to stand proudly. His breath ragged, he felt his soul pick up the pace as Papyrus eyed him hungrily.

Sans groaned as Papyrus leaned back on his haunches, rubbing himself through his pants. “Pap…wait.” He got up, wincing as the head of his cock brushed against Papyrus’ femur. Papyrus made a sound of confusion as Sans took his hand from his groin, and shoved his own into his pants.

Papyrus gasped, and gripped his arm tightly, his claws digging into the bone. “Hah, mmm…Sans…fuck.”

The magic that had pooled in Papyrus’ pelvis began to form around his hand, and soon he felt the generous length of his brother’s cock. Papyrus loosed a breathy moan, his eye closing against the intense pleasure. Sans pulled him free of his pants, admiring his gorgeous cherry-red magic. Groaning himself, he slowly ran his phalanges along the long, slim member. “Ah! Hhah-nn, g-god.” Sans lavished in the noises Papyrus was making for him, lost to his pleasure as Sans ran his thumb over the head of his cock. He brushed along his frenulum before concentrating on his slit, making him take a sharp breath as red precum pearled from the tip. “S-Sans, q-quit it or I’m…I’ll…!”

Sans grinned, he was loving this too much to stop. He wrapped his hand about his girth and began to pump his hand.

“Hah! S-stop! Ah! S-Sans…GODDAMNIT!”

His grin only widened as Papyrus came, his hips bucking frantically against his palm. Lovely, red cum ran down his hands to coat the floor. Papyrus huffed as Sans continued to jerk him off long after he came, sweat beading his brow. The claws on his arms pinched painfully. “hmmn...sh-shit...” Sans slowed and then stopped, finally letting go of the spent member. It dissipated in a wisp of red, its usage finished.

“I told you…to stop.”

 

 

Sans gave him an infuriating wink. “sorry, boss. you just looked so good, i couldn’t help myself.”

Papyrus growled and looked like he was about to say something, when he saw Sans’ dripping cock, desperately wanting attention. “Hmph! Why don’t you make it up to me, then?” A terrible smile curled on his skull as he flicked the end of Sans’ cock.

A choking scream broke from his mouth, the rather harmless affliction smarting his pulsing member. “Papyrus! what the fuck!” He growled, angry at the unexpected intense pain.

Papyrus leaned in, his face only a breath away as he met his angry glare with a lusty stare. “Why don’t  _you_  finally fuck  _me_  for once?”

 

 

An excited trill flashed from his soul and went straight to his cock. It twitched against Papyrus’ femur, who certainly felt his excitement. “You seem to like the idea.” He chuckled as he swiped his tongue against his mouth, teasing him into opening for him. Sans’ broad tongue poked out to wrestle with the other’s. He moaned as the much longer tongue snaked about his own, pulling him deeper into the kiss.

Papyrus pulled away and swiped his tongue across his sharp-toothed grin. “Well, whelp?”

Sans got up onto his knees, and grabbed Papyrus’ hips.

The other held him with a steely eye, a smirk crossing his skull. He knew Sans was nervous.

The smaller skeleton had never topped before, and…yeah, he  _was_  a little nervous. He didn’t exactly have the best stamina. And he had a feeling this was going to be awkward, especially since he was shorter. But he’ll be damned if he wouldn’t take this opportunity.

He got behind Papyrus, running his hands along the backs of his ribs and trailing his fingers to his spine. Papyrus suddenly shivered and sighed from the light touch, his spine a terrible weakness. Inspired, Sans leaned forward to run a tongue along his vertebrae. The skeleton before him arched his back into his tongue as he moaned. “Ughn…” Sans worked his tongue down his back, coming to a stop at his thin, narrow sacrum. He ran his hand along its sharp curve, moaning in sync with his lover. He pecked a kiss to the top of his pelvis, and then ran his fingers into his pelvic cavity. His other hand reached around to rub his pelvic arch, loving the way Papyrus melted into his actions. “S-Sans…”

 

 

Red magic buzzed beneath his fingertips. Papyrus’ cock reforming in his hand, and an entrance wrapping about the fingers in his cavity.

Sans pressed a hand to Papyrus’ back, gently commanding him to bend forward for him. With a groan, Papyrus shifted to rest his weight upon his forearms. He looked back at Sans, and for a second, he thought he saw a nervous glint. Though he wasn’t certain of that, as Papyrus barked back at him, “Are you going to do something or stand there staring?”

With a grunt, he lined up his cock to the magic entrance and, having learned from his mistake the other day, carefully pressed the head inside.

Papyrus hissed, bowing down into the mattress.

Sans stopped in alarm. “Pap? are ya ok?” He looked down at Papyrus’ pregnant belly, suddenly very worried that he might have harmed him. He placed a hand on the swell of his stomach, and caressed it gently.

Papyrus groaned and raised his head back up. “Sans, I didn’t tell you to stop.” He glared at him over his shoulder. “If things get bad, I’ll use the safeword I gave to you…”blue”, right?”

 

 

Feeling a little better, he retracted his hand from his stomach and brought it back to his hips. “ok…don’t push yourself.”

Papyrus laughed. “Nyeh heh heh! You say that like you’re afraid you’ll break me.” The corners of his mouth pulled up in a shit-eating grin. “As if you’re big enough to even be capable of that.”

Sans growled, and dug his phalanges into his hips, earning him a groan. “heh, you’re the one that’s been  _begging_  for my cock, boss.” He pressed himself inside once more, his shaft slick with precum and slipping inside easily.

Unable to get a word in edge-wise, Papyrus moaned as Sans began to move his hips, giving him a shallow fuck. Sans huffed, trying to maintain control. God, he wanted to just fucking destroy him, but he was afraid to hurt him. Reaching between Papyrus’ legs, he found that his cock was still there. Twitching and ready, a steady stream of red precum trailing from its tip to collect on the mattress as Sans fucked him. 

Papyrus gasped as Sans began to jack him off roughly, he suddenly slammed himself back into Sans’ hips from the sensation, driving him all the way in to the hilt. “Sans! Hah, f-fuck!”

“sh-shit!” Sans grit his teeth as he felt the hotness of the magic around his cock, squeezing and pulling on his length. “ah-ahn…”

Dizzy with pleasure, he made himself stop. His cock pulsed with need, but he needed to make sure Papyrus was ok. “P-Pap? i-i’m sorry, are you ok?”

 

 

The skeleton’s ribcage was heaving with heavy breaths, but he managed to respond, albeit breathily. “Don’t…stop…hnn…”

Satisfied that he was ok, Sans leaned forward, his chest nearly flush to Papyrus’ back as he wrapped his arm about his waist and started to pile-drive him.

He was getting close really fucking fast, holy fuck. God, Papyrus was making the most amazing sounds, loving that Sans was fucking him. Fuck, Sans was really doing a good job, wasn’t he? Panting, he tugged on Papyrus' cock faster, jerking in rhythm with his bucking hips.

“sh-shit. shit. ahah…hah, ahn…P-Pap!” Sans came, thrusting himself into Papyrus until he drained himself of seed.

“Hah…f-fuck…FUCK!” Papyrus’ cock splattered its cum all over the mattress as he came soon after, red sticky strands of magic making the previously dirty bed even dirtier.

 

 

They collapsed on the floor beside the scene of the crime, regaining their breath.

Sans crawled over to Papyrus’ side and flopped down next to him.

The other wrapped an arm about his shoulders loosely, wanting to touch him, but feeling too hot and sweaty to get closer.

They laid there until they had regained themselves, listening to their souls slow into their normal beats.

 

 

Papyrus was the first to speak, humor thick in his voice as he turned to Sans, “Nyeh heh! Why is it you always make me do all the work?”

Sans laughed and turned to look at him with a grin, “cause i’m a lazyass, remember?”

“Could have fooled me.”

His eyes widened at the compliment, his cheeks blushing brightly. His mouth opening and closing in his bewilderment, his skull suddenly losing all witty remarks.

Papyrus chuckled at his expense, placed a finger beneath his chin, and shut his mouth with an audible clack. “You look like an idiot.”

“heh!” Sans pulled himself out of his grasp, and picked himself up off the floor.

 

 

He stretched, enjoying the blissful ache in his bones after their session. He grinned down at Papyrus, knowing he would have a difficult time getting himself off the floor with his large middle.

He offered him his hand, a gesture out of kindness more than an actual offer, really. He knew Papyrus wouldn’t want help. His ego was too goddamn big. But, to Sans’ surprise, not only did he take his hand, but he did so without hardly a blink of hesitation.

Papyrus got to his feet somewhat ungraciously with Sans’ help, and squinted at his surely incredulous expression. “What’s your problem?”

The older skeleton quickly shook off his confusion. “n-nothing, Pap! i’m just pretty tired.”

He yawned in agreement.

 

 

After changing into new clothes, they went into Papyrus’ room, settling into their shared bed. Papyrus wrapped Sans up into a warm embrace, his thumbs gently rubbing his forearms to comfort him. Sans sighed as he felt him nuzzle against the top of his skull, planting a clanking kiss.

 

 

“I love you, Sans.”

 

 

Sans felt his soul ache in his chest. Hearing him say that was such an amazing feeling. He wondered if he’d ever  _not_ feel so giddy from the simple words.

He sighed and let his eyes droop closed, feeling the best that he’d ever felt in his life.

 

 

“i love you too, Pap.”

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

 

The sound of someone knocking on the front door startled Sans awake.

 

 

Who the hell…? Whatever, it was too fucking early. Whoever it was could come back later.

Sans ignored it, and turned over, readjusting himself in the arms that still held him from the night before. As he came face to face with Papyrus he was surprised to see that he was already awake. He looked terrible. Sweat beaded his brow, his teeth were clenched tightly, and his eye was screwed shut.

“Pap? are ya ok?” After what had happened yesterday, he was really worried that he might be going through another set of contractions. “anything I can do to help?” He tried to reach out and touch the other’s face, but Papyrus’ eye flashed open with a deadly glare.

“Do. Not. Touch. Me.”

Sans retracted his hand quickly, actually more than a little scared it might get bitten off. “fuck, ok! shit, bro.”

More knocks rang through the silent house. Whoever was at the door had not left.

 

 

Groaning, Sans sat up in bed, making Papyrus slide off of him with an angry hiss. He loosed a stream of grumbled curses before he violently snatched Sans’ pillow and brought it over to wrap himself around it.

“uh…do ya need anything?” He grinned and tried to make light of the mood, “heh heh. a chill pill, maybe?”

A skeletal hand poked out from under the covers to flip him off.

Sans sighed in exasperation and mild annoyance. Fucking hell he was pissy. It was probably the whole “moodiness” thing again. Guess he wasn’t going back to bed anytime soon. He didn’t even want to _try_ to get that pillow back.

 

 

Being on the side of the bed nearest to the wall, Sans was careful not to incur more of his brother’s wrath as he gingerly crawled over him and got out of bed. He stretched with a satisfying assortment of pops and snaps from his bones as he made his way down the steps and through the living room.

He rubbed his sockets with his knuckle and yawned as he opened the door. Though he had just gotten out of bed, he was soon wide awake when saw who was standing on the front porch. “you’ve gotta be shitting me.”

The librarian from yesterday stood outside his door, a large stack of books clutched in his claws.

“Hello! Good morning!”

“what the fuck are _you_ doing here?”

The green monster shifted the books in his grasp and laughed. “Well, you were in such a hurry yesterday to leave that you forgot to check out your book!” He shoved the stack of books into Sans’ chest, forcing the poor confused skeleton to take them. “I figured you really really liked it, and you were so excited to go read it that you must have just forgotten! So, I thought maybe I would bring over some more similar books!”

Sans didn’t know what the fuck to say to that. Was this guy nuts?

“what the hell is wrong with you?”

 

 

“HAAH! S-SANS, HELP! SANS!”

“Pap!” Sans dropped the stack of books in his hands as he let the shifting, churning teleportation magic engulf him, and popped up not a second later in Papyrus’ room. “Papyrus!”

Papyrus was sprawled on the bed, panting laboriously. His legs kept curling and uncurling on the bed restlessly, his hands gripping the sheets of the bed tightly. His eye was wide with panic, and his voice strained in pain. “SANS! S-SOMETHING’S WRONG!” A gasping cry burst from his teeth as he squeezed his eye shut and tensed. “F-FUCK! FUCK, SANS! HAH-AH! IT HURTS!”

Sans didn’t know what to do.

He stood paralyzed as another pained scream broke through the air. Papyrus rolled onto his side, his breath coming in ragged pants as he crushed a pillow to his chest. A sharp, keening wail broke Sans from his shock.

“bro!” He choked. He went forward and gently placed his hands on his quivering shoulder. This did _not_ look like the contractions from yesterday. “shit! shit! shit!” Holy shit this was so much worse. He had never seen Papyrus in so much pain.

Papyrus moaned pitifully and curled in on himself.

 

 

His flailing movements had thrown the covers off his body, and when Sans saw his brother’s engorged stomach he felt his soul freeze.

The soul within Papyrus was beating in an intense, erratic rhythm. Blinding light was continuously shining from under the swell of his belly. But that wasn’t all that was alarming. Not caring if Papyrus got upset, Sans gently pushed his arm aside from his middle for a better look. Sure enough, his eyes hadn’t been deceiving him. There was a thin line of light connecting his brother’s own soul to the red magic womb. It looked almost like a strand of red thread.

Had that always been there?

Papyrus screeched suddenly and grasped Sans’ hand for dear life as he shook. “AAH…NNHAH! FUCK! SANS, WHAT…THE H-HELL?!”

Sans didn’t know what to do. His mind was racing. Was this normal? He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to do! What the hell should he DO?!

 

 

“Oh my god! Is he in labor?!”

Sans nearly broke his neck with how fast he spun his head around to look at the source of the voice. There, in the doorway to their bedroom, stood the librarian.

“get the fuck out of here!” Sans tried to warn, but it was a choked, terror-filled sound that lacked any bite. Sans hunched over Papyrus’ vulnerable form, shielding him with his body. “s-stay away!”

The librarian only came closer, either not hearing his warning or not caring.

 

 

There was a stirring in his soul.

A deep, powerful surge blazed terrifically through his bones. Magic tickled at his palms before it burst into life, an intense red glow emanating from his hands. The air around him crackled audibly with the force of the magic radiating off his soul. A voice snarled from his jaws, barely recognizable as his own, _“ stay away!” _

Bones of various sizes and sharpness appeared around the intrusive monster. The librarian gasped as he was surrounded, caged in on all sides by the threatening attack.

An odd, almost maddening giddiness bloomed in Sans’ chest as he felt his weapons come back to greet him. Terrible skulls manifested from the air, staring down at the doomed creature that would dare threaten Sans’ family.

 

 

“W-wait!” The monster squeaked.

Sans raised his left hand, his weapons ready to fire at his command.

The librarian cried out in fear, reflexively putting his hands up in front of his face as he screamed, “Stop! He’s _dying_!”

Sans paused, magic curling from off his fingertips like smoke from a gun. “what?”

The cowering creature shook ferociously. “I-I’m a doctor! L-let me help!”

Sans wanted to tell the lying bastard to fuck off, but beneath him Papyrus loosed another scream and clawed at the covers on the bed, ripping the fabric.

“P-please, let me help! He _needs_ help!”

 

 

 

In the Underground, no one could be trusted. There was no such thing as a friend. No such thing as an ally. And no such thing as mercy.

But Sans had no choice.

With a pained whimper of his own, Sans released his hold on his magic and granted him mercy. God, he couldn’t do anything right. The bones clattered to the ground before they disappeared, and the menacing blasters dissolved away. Sans turned to Papyrus and clanked his head to his shoulder. “Pap, i’m sorry. i don’t know what else to do.” Papyrus could do no more than pant as his body shook and his form tensed and un-tensed in wracking spasms.

Sans looked up as the librarian came rushing over. He paid Sans no mind as he reached forward to touch Papyrus. “don’t-!” Sans swiped at his hands, fear coursing through his bones.

The lizard librarian snapped, “Let me _help_ him!” He batted Sans’ hands out of the way, all but pushing him aside to look at Papyrus.

 

 

Papyrus had quieted considerably during the whole ordeal, and Sans did not feel relief in the silence.

 

 

The librarian/doctor guided Sans in to helping him lie Papyrus on his back. He rolled his shirt up and grimaced. “What was your name? Sans?” The previous odd friendliness was gone from his face, replaced with steadfast concentration.  
“y-yeah.”

“Sit behind your mate, let him lie back against your chest. You need to have your soul as close to his as possible.”

Sans did as he was told, though he was visibly shaking. With the help of the doc they maneuvered Papyrus so that he lie with his back against Sans’ chest. Sans felt sick down to the marrow at how limp Papyrus was. He didn’t appear to even be breathing. The only way Sans knew that he still drew breath was from the tired wheezing against the side of his cheek as his head rested against his shoulder. God, his chest heaved with great effort to even do that much. The soul in his chest seemed incredibly dim compared to the one in his womb.

It looked like it was draining him alive.

Sans pushed the thought away, though not before hot tears ran from his sockets. He wrapped an arm about Papyrus’ chest, pulling him in as close as he could. His soul seemed to barely be there, its normal magnetic pull only just tugging at his own.

 

 

“Good, keep your souls close.” The doctor-librarian soothed as he placed his hands on either side of Papyrus’ womb. He didn’t look up as he asked, “How long has it been since conception?”

Sans blinked the blurriness out of his vision as he choked out, “two days.” He normally would have been embarrassed by such a question, and probably would have spat at whoever had the gall to ask…but right now his pride was beyond his present worries. Papyrus suddenly went still in his arms, his eye drooping closed with a sigh.

It looked like…

Sans felt a wail rise in his throat as a deep sense of dread tore through his soul. “oh my god…i-is he-?” He all but stopped breathing, waiting for the horrible sound of cracking.

The doctor leaned forward and opened Papyrus’ socket that had drooped closed. “No, but he’s passed out.” The doctor went back to his previous thought as he returned to his position between Papyrus’ legs. “Two days? Hmm… That seems about normal for a monster with so little physical matter.” He reached a hand up into Papyrus’ ribcage and gently wrapped his claws about his soul. “His magic has drained significantly…but this should help.” A soothing, green glow hailed the other using healing magic upon Papyrus’ soul. Right before Sans’ eyes he saw his brother’s soul begin to brighten into its normal state once more.

 

 

Papyrus groaned groggily against his chest, his eye finally opening to focus on his brother’s face. “…Sans?” A familiar, warm tug pulled at Sans’ soul, making him sigh with relief as his brother’s soul regained its strength and held tightly onto his own.

Sans placed a clanking kiss to the top of his skull. “i’m here, Pap.” Fuck, he’d been so scared. He held his skull against his own and allowed himself to cry. He never wanted to feel that scared again.

The larger skeleton grunted and grit his teeth audibly as the doctor trailed his fingers from his soul, and gently touched the strange bright connection between it and the womb. “This is a very aggressive heart string.” He mumbled half to himself before he released his magic and turned back to Sans. “Has he been under a lot of stress? Maybe used a lot of magic recently?”

The past few days had been fraught with stress. Not only had Papyrus gotten into a fight, but he’d been hurt badly as a consequence. And as if that weren’t bad enough, he’d gotten into a terribly stressful argument with Sans just yesterday. He gulped guiltily as he replied, “y-yeah, he’s been pretty stressed.”

“And the magic?”

“he got into a tough fight…”

The doctor sighed and pushed his glasses further up his sharply pointed snout. “Alright, well, now I know what I’m dealing with.” He got up from between Papyrus’ legs and held Sans’ gaze. “Where is your sink?”

“in the kitchen downstairs.”

“Clean towels?”

“in the laundry room. its downstairs, too.” He gave him brief directions and watched as he left in a purposeful rush.

 

 

“Sans? What’s going on? Who-?” Papyrus started to get up, but Sans squeezed his arm about his chest tighter, urging him back down.

“it’s ok, Pap. just lie back.” After a few seconds, he felt the other skeleton ease back into him with a sigh. Once he was certain Papyrus was settled, he spoke to him softly. “a…friend…is helping us. a doctor. apparently you went into labor.”

“So it wasn’t nothing…” Papyrus trailed off in thought.

They sat in silence for a while, listening to each other’s souls beat in rhythm.

Papyrus rested his arm on the one Sans wrapped about his chest. “Did he say if this is normal?” With the other hand, he cradled his middle. “Is everything ok?”

Sans nestled his skull against his brother’s, remembering just how awful it’d been thinking Papyrus had died. “y-yeah, bro. you’ve just been under a lot of stress so things were…a bit _labor-intensive_.”

“Nyeh heh, really, Sans?” Papyrus gave a tired sigh and a groan. “I feel like I’ve been through hell.”

“heh. ya kinda have...” Sans grabbed hold of the hand over his, entwining their fingers, and squeezed comfortingly. God, he could have lost him. He could have lost him right here and now. The hand he now held could have been nothing but dust. “Pap…listen…i thought that maybe…i’d lost you.” Papyrus began to speak, but Sans just kept talking, his mouth taking on a mind of its own, “i’ve lost ya before, Pap. i’ve watched you die so many times, through so many resets.” He shook as images flashed before his eyes. A slash tearing through his neck, his body turning to dust in the snow. And no matter how hard he tried, every single time he was too late to do anything.

Every. Single. Time.

He couldn’t do anything right.

And after a while, he had sort of accepted that it was going to happen again eventually. He had gone sort of…numb to it, in a way. The pain gone, though the grief remained.

He could still feel the dust running through his fingers.

Sans sobbed at the memory, he never wanted it to happen again. It couldn’t happen again! Not now. “this time it’s different! i want this to stay the same! i don’t want it to reset! i want to stay here, in this timeline, with you! P-Papyrus, i don’t think i’ve ever felt so fucking scared in my life…i-i don’t know what i’d do without you! i don’t think i could keep liv-”

 

 

“DON’T YOU _DARE_ FINISH THAT FUCKING SENTENCE!” Papyrus’ intense command shook him out of his dark thoughts. The hand that he held gripped his own tight enough to hurt. “DON’T YOU EVER EVEN _THINK_ ABOUT SOMETHING LIKE THAT AGAIN, WHELP, OR _I WILL KILL YOU!_ ” Sans looked down to see Papyrus fixing him with a blazing red eye. “ _DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?!_ ”

Before Sans could collect himself enough to reply, Papyrus wrapped his hand about the back of his skull and pulled him into a long, rough kiss. Sans held him tight, as he kissed him back.

There was so much worry running through his mind, so much fear.

 

 

But he wouldn’t trade this moment for any other.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, look at that lame-ass twist! Lol.


	17. Chapter 17

 

 

The doctor returned shortly after their tender moment.

 

 

He carried in a heap of unfolded clean towels, fresh from the dryer. “Alright.” He grunted as he plopped the pile onto the unoccupied side of the bed. Taking one towel from the bunch, he placed it between Papyrus’ legs and after a gentle nudge to his thighs, tucked it under as Papyrus lifted himself slightly for him. “Ok, we need to take these off, alright?” The doctor looked pointedly at Papyrus’ pants, and after a long, embarrassed pause, Papyrus mumbled in agreement. Once off, he tried to more or less cross his legs in front of himself, but the bulge of his middle didn’t allow him much space to do so.

Giving up, Papyrus asked, “What now?” No doubt trying to preoccupy his mind from the fact that he was half-naked in front of a stranger. He looked incredibly nervous.

The doctor wiped his forehead against his shirt’s shoulder, completely unaffected by Papyrus’ exposed pelvis. “Well, we wait for you to have another contraction. And hopefully after this time, you’ll be getting to meet your baby soon.”

Sans felt Papyrus stiffen in his grasp. He pecked a kiss to the side of his head and ran a thumb over the back of his hand in reassurance.

“W-will it be as bad as before?”

The doctor explained, “The reason you were in so much pain the first time is because you were _dying._ I’m going to be completely honest with you: it will hurt, but I know you can handle it.” He absently grabbed a plush, soft towel from the pile and began to fold it. “If you’re the Papyrus that works under Undyne, then I have no doubts in you.”

 

 

Both brothers began to speak at once, surprised that the doctor knew who Papyrus was. Sans laughed at their shared confusion, and then let Papyrus speak for the both of them, “How do you know that?”

“My sister is Alphys.” He placed the newly folded towel off to the side. “I’m sure you know her. Royal Scientist? Undyne’s fling?”

Now that Sans really looked at him, yes, he did look a lot like the reptilian scientist. Short spiky crest, long snout, scaly skin. The only large difference was their skin color and the sharpness of his snout.

Papyrus nodded in affirmation. “Yes, I know her.”

Sans bounced into the conversation, a couple questions that had been burning in his skull finally finding an opportunity to be asked. “so your sister’s the royal scientist… but how is it that you’re a doctor? and what the hell are you doing at the library?”

The doctor looked up to check on Papyrus’ stomach, and then turned to Sans. “I used to work at the Lab with Alphys. I went my separate way when we…had differing opinions.” He shrugged it off and continued, “I decided to work at the library because it was good, honest work.”

“that’s one hell of a career change.” Sans laughed, “heh heh! though, i’m glad you’re here-”

 

 

Suddenly, the soul within Papyrus’ middle burst with intense light.

Papyrus’ grip on Sans’ hand tightened considerably. His spine tensing against his chest. “FUCK!”

The doctor quickly shot to attention and got up on the bed, he pushed aside Papyrus legs and positioned himself there. Gently he placed one hand on Papyrus’ belly and reached his other into his ribcage. “Ok, Papyrus. I need you to breathe, alright?”

Papyrus ground his teeth, his breathing coming as more of a pant than anything else. “I. Am. Breathing. Shit!”

Sans quickly jumped in to help. “boss! calm down, ok? just breathe with me!”

Papyrus screeched, his head clanking back sharply on to Sans’ shoulder as another spasm wracked through him. “GAH! SH-SHUT THE FUCK UP! AH-AGH! HAH!” His hand was practically crushing Sans’, the bones creaking under the pressure. _“I’M GOING TO KILL YOU, SANS!_ ”

Shit, he was so fucking dead when all this was over.

Even if he was dead meat, he was not going to give up on him. Sans wiped the sweat off Papyrus’ brow, and continued to breathe deep, calming breathes for Papyrus to model. “breathe. it’s ok. you’re doing great. right, doc?”

“Yes! You’re doing great, Papyrus!” The doctor called up to him as he worked. “Keep breathing!”

“Nyeh, hah, a-ah! O-ok.” Papyrus squirmed as the doctor gently ran his hand along Papyrus’ soul, carefully examining the “heart string” attached there. Papyrus began to follow Sans’ lead as he breathed, grounding him through the pain.

 

 

Sans watched in awe as the soul within Papyrus’ womb began to settle into a rhythm, beating in time with their breaths. It shone so brightly, so wonderfully. It was like a little jewel catching the light.

Sans heard a loud snap, followed by Papyrus’ agonized scream.

 

 

The heart string had broken, the red “womb” had detached itself from Papyrus’ soul.

The magic barrier, having lost its connection to Papyrus’ soul, burst, coating the towels with blood-red liquid. Sans felt faint, the only time he had seen that much red magic was when Papyrus and the unborn soul had lie dying in the snow.

There was no need to be afraid this time, however.

His fears were soon made null as he saw that the doctor held a lightly bobbing heart in his hands. He delicately handed it to Sans and Papyrus, who cradled it together with all the tenderness and fear of new parents. Before their very eyes, a bright mass of magic began to shift and skew around the soul that they held. Its light burning like the sun before it settled.

Sans blinked to clear the spots from his eyes and gasped.

 

 

Where the magic had once been, was a small bundle of bones.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Oh my god… Sans...”

 

 

Papyrus all but broke down right then and there.

He was a sobbing mess, not caring if anyone saw him cry. The tiny skeleton in his arms was wriggling impatiently and crying ferociously loud for such a small thing. He could hear Sans behind him, crying as well. Sans placed a loving clank upon Papyrus’ forehead as he gently caressed the child.

“fuck, Pap. look at them! they’re…they’re…they’re just so tiny.” Sans ran a shaking hand over the baby’s leg, taking special interest in their little feet and curling toes. He choked, “Pap…god, they’re so goddamn amazing.”

They really were amazing. The baby grasped at Papyrus’ hand, their own tiny ones grabbing onto his fingers. Papyrus took in the sight of the new life in his arms. He could already tell that they had Sans’ “big-boned”-ness. He laughed tenderly at the thick, sturdiness of the baby’s features. Hopefully, they wouldn’t take up Sans’ pension for laziness as well. He brushed a hand along their cheek, and heard Sans laugh behind him. It was pretty obvious where they got their sharp cheekbones from. Papyrus admired the baby’s cute teeth in amusement, wondering if the soft nubs would grow sharp like his own or remain as they were. Either way, the child was perfect.

Either way, he loved them.

His soul was beating furiously in his chest, an unbelievable amount of happiness made him ache in the most incredible way. And, though he hurt and felt tired, he felt energized as well. He leaned down and nuzzled the top of the baby’s tender skull, careful not to be too hard.

The fussy baby seemed to settle considerably from the gentle loving from their caretaker, their cries dying down into whimpers.

 

 

The doctor, whom Papyrus felt an unbelievable amount of gratitude for, held out a soft towel. “Here, let me clean him and wrap him up for you.”

While it hurt to hand the baby off, he felt a certain amount of trust for the monster before him. The baby was covered in a thin layer of residual red magic, and needed to be cleaned. With a nervous, held-breath he placed the baby skeleton in the doctor’s offered towel. He took great care in wrapping the child in the towel.

“It’s alright, I’ve got him.” He soothed.

Papyrus loosed his held breath in a sigh.

Sans spoke, his voice shaking with excitement. “d-did…did you just say “him”?”

Papyrus’ eye widened as he realized that, yes, the doctor had said “him” didn’t he?! His soul jumped in his chest as he looked expectantly at the doctor.

“Yes.” Too busy to look up, the doctor used the towel in his hand to gently wipe away the leftover birthing magic from the angry baby’s bones.

Papyrus blinked, how did he know that? He looked at the small pile of bones, trying to figure out what on earth would give away his sex. It’s not like skeletons had genitalia…

Before he wrapped up the now semi-clean baby in a new towel, the doctor brushed the baby’s legs aside and leaned over to show his parents. “You see the long sacrum and narrow pelvic opening? That marks a healthy, skeleton-boy.” He laughed as the baby put up a kicking fuss against his hand and cried pitifully at being handled against his will.  “Although… I am assuming that you are a lot like human skeletons in that regard...”

Papyrus was in shock, his mouth all but hanging open as he floundered in awe. “i-it’s a boy?”

“Yes, I think so.” The doctor chuckled at the rhetorical question, and finished swaddling the child before handing him back to his parents.

 

 

Papyrus held him in his arms, watching as the baby yawned tiredly. He was incredible. He was lovely. He was amazing. He was his.

And he was never going to let him go.

Papyrus knew in that moment that he would fight for him. He would die for him. And god help whoever tried to harm a single beautiful bone in his body.

 

 

Warm, protected, and in the comfort of those who loved him, the baby bones settled into sleep, exhausted after the exciting welcome into the world.

 

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I grinned like a goddamn fool while writing 17 and 18. Oh my god, I hope I did the scene in my head justice. Fucking hell the kid is so cute I feel sick.

 

 

Papyrus and the baby were asleep, both utterly exhausted.

 

 

And though it pained him to do so, Sans pulled himself away from his family. He left to walk the doctor-librarian to the door. It was the least he could do.

 

 

As Sans went to open the door for him, he perked up suddenly. “Oh! Just a second!” He went over to the table beside the door, where a stack of books lie beside the pet rock. Apparently, after Sans had dropped them to get Papyrus, he had stacked them neatly on the table, their spines displaying various baby books and guides. He took a rather bulky tome from the middle and handed it to Sans. “This might be of help.”

Sans accepted the heavy book, and read its cover aloud, ““Monster Reproduction”, hmm…?” He raised a brow, curious as to how this would help. “you said you’d never dealt with skeletons before.”

“I haven’t, but it seems like maybe you might be similar to- Turn to page 67,” Sans did as he was told, and stopped at a section labelled, “Rock Monsters”. “You have similar material makeup, and I think this would help explain what your baby may require, what to look out for, and what to expect.”

“we’re not rock monsters.” Sans remarked with distaste. What the fuck was he trying to say?

“I know, I know, but it’s the closest thing I have.” He turned to the door, and Sans opened it for him. “If you have any problems, you know where to find me.”

 

 

Even though he was a bit irked at being compared to a rock monster, and the fact that the doctor had barged into their house, and the fact that he sort-of stalked him home…he had to admit he felt really fucking thankful for all the guy had done for them. Sans could hardly comprehend the kindness that this monster had given to them.

“hey, uh…thanks…i don’t know what we would’ve done without ya.”

The doctor smiled and readjusted his glasses. “It was my pleasure. I haven’t had that much excitement in quite a while! It’s pretty dull running a library no one ever visits…” He looked away, a slight sadness to his voice.

Goddamnit, he was going to say something stupid. “ya know…maybe we might stop by sometime. the kid’s gonna need to learn about the world somehow, right?” Though he really shouldn’t have obligated himself like this, he felt really good when he saw the hopeful spark in the librarian-doctor’s eyes. “and besides, i think Papyrus would love to try out some crossword puzzles.” Great, now he roped Papyrus into this too. Let’s make it a whole fucking family ordeal.

The librarian-doctor sniffed, and Sans instantly felt like a jerk as he saw that he was wiping at his eyes. “That would be…very kind of you!”

 

 

“heh.” Sans blushed in embarrassment. You know, maybe something good could come out of this. “uh, don’t mention it…friend.”

 

They said their goodbyes, and Sans closed the door.

 

 

“rock monsters?” Sans sniffed as he shook his head. He felt like that was a bunch of bullshit, but still, he went over to the couch to sit and read.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The baby was sleeping peacefully.

 

 

Papyrus held him close, taking in his scent. If there ever was a way to describe him, he would smell of warmth, happiness, and love. He nuzzled his skull against the much smaller one. He listened to his breath, small whispering sounds leaving his slightly agape mouth. His soul was so much brighter than his own, its light so strong and new. It shone through his makeshift swaddle with a gentle maroon glow. Papyrus rested a hand upon his back, feeling the way his chest rose and fell with each breath, and the flutter of his soul within.

 

 

He sighed, letting the warmth of the blankets and softness of the pillows engulf his tired and battered body.

Sleep would have come easy for him.

If he hadn’t noticed the figure in the corner of the room.

 

 

Papyrus’ eye flashed open in surprise and fear, the hand resting on his child pulling the baby protectively to his chest. His other hand lit aflame with red magic. He tried to warn the creature away, but even as he felt his mouth move, there was no sound. He tried again, and found that though he drew breath and though his mouth moved, there was no sound to be heard.

Even with the baby so close to him, he realized that he could no longer hear his tiny breaths, the flutter of his soul. Horrified, he tried to wake the child, to see if they were alright, but a hand covered his own.

 

 

A white, frail hand, with a gaping wound through its middle.

 

 

Papyrus looked up to see a deathly pale face, long gashes trailing from either of its eyes. A terrifying, slashing grin was its scarred and broken mouth.

Papyrus screamed. His cry silent amongst the void that seemed to envelope them.

He couldn’t move, he couldn’t look away. His eye remained fixed on the dark figure before him.

The only thing that brought him out of his paralysis was the hand on his own. It stroked his hand, almost kindly, and then trailed up to cup the side of the baby’s skull.

 

 

Papyrus loosed a special attack.

A hailstorm of bones shot outwards towards the figure, set to shred it apart. It should have shred it apart. It would have torn it apart, had the creature been a monster. The attack sailed right through it, as if it weren’t there at all.

Papyrus wrapped his arms about the child and curled himself around him, prepared to take whatever this creature had in store for them. If this creature wanted to hurt him, Papyrus would guard his baby until his last breath.

 

 

When no attack came, when there was no pain, when there was not even another touch of a cold hand, Papyrus dared to look back.

 

 

The figure stood beside his bed, watching with its awful grin. A ghostly hand clenched into a fist, a thumb pointed towards its stomach. The hand trailed upwards and stopped at its chest.

**PROUD.**

The word rung in his head, a sound akin to static teasing at his hearing. The sound was terrifyingly loud in the deafness of the room. It was horribly loud, he felt like his skull was going to shatter apart. It kept getting louder and louder until it was a deafening roar-

 

 

“AH!”

Papyrus gasped as he awoke.

The baby bones on his chest began to cry, startled by his loud outburst. Papyrus, still shaken by the oddness of his dream, bounced the baby on his chest and held him close.

“I-It’s ok. It’s alright. I’m sorry…”

As he comforted the child, his eye caught something resting on the foot of the bed.

 

A small pink book, its title reading in playful letters, “Fluffy Bunny”.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Sans stretched.

 

 

That book had been…informative.

He went into the kitchen, trying to soak in all he’d read. Apparently, rock monsters only needed around a day or two to give birth, and they gave birth through what the book described as “soul meiosis”. It was pretty interesting, he had to admit. He wasn’t sure if that was exactly what had happened with Papyrus, but it seemed like he fit almost everything that the book had described for rock monsters. He opened up the fridge and got out hotdogs and spaghetti sauce.

Papyrus was probably starving to death after all that shit.

The book had stated that baby rock monsters “fed” off of the soul energy of their parents until they got old enough to eat. Basically, you kept the baby close to your soul and let it survive off of your love for it or something like that. Ok, that he was alright with…sort of. But, first off, how the ever-living _fuck_ did a rock monster _eat_? Second off, how the hell was he supposed to know when to “wean” the kid off of soul energy?

He sighed to himself. He supposed those were questions he’s have to ask the doctor-librarian. Sans smacked a hand to his face in sudden realization: he didn’t even ask the guy’s name! “wow, real nice job there, asshole.” He grumbled under his breath. So much for him being trying to be a friend.

 

 

After he had finished cooking, he cut up the dogs and put them in a bowl, and then dumped nearly half a jar of red sauce over them. He stuck a spoon in the glop, and made his way up the steps and into Papyrus’ room.

“hey Papyrus, i brought some saucy ‘dogs for ya! i thought maybe they’d be easier for you to eat them this way.” He was surprised to see Papyrus looking through a small book, a small smile stretching his features.

He turned to him, his eye practically sparkling with excitement. “Sans! I can’t believe you found this! I thought it was lost for good!”

Sans cocked his head to the side as he came forward. He traded Papyrus, the food for the book, though he nearly dropped both when he saw the title: “Fluffy Bunny”.

He felt his soul freeze over, a chill running up his back.

His hands shaking, he opened the book, turning to the very back inside cover. There, the paper backing was slightly folded, as if it were peeling loose. He pulled down the paper, knowing that behind it there was a secret.

_Don’t Forget._

It was a child’s drawing, a picture of three smiling figures, their hands interlocked.

The sight of it made sure that he didn’t forget again.

The acrid smell of chemicals: the taste bitter on his tongue, choking as it was forced upon him. Buzzing lights: buzzing saws, the cracking of bones, and blinding pain. White coats: pale hands and an even paler face, dark sockets watching him coldly. Rows of massive glowing eyes: a burden placed upon him at a young age.

He would be a long-awaited promise of victory for the masses.

A weapon.

 

 

His brother was not. And this drawing was his.

 

 

Sans grabbed at his chest, trying to keep his anxiety from pushing him over the edge into full-on panic. He shifted his gaze back to Papyrus, who was blissfully unaware of his brother’s plight. He ate his meal happily, his appetite strong after his long day.

Sans took out the slip of paper and crumpled it in his hand, and carefully shoved it in his jacket pocket.

Papyrus looked up at him, and licked some of the sauce from his teeth. He spoke in hushed tones, trying to keep from waking the baby, “Thank you, Sans.” He chuckled quietly, “Nyeh heh heh, maybe you’re good at something after all!”

Sans pushed down his previous worry with difficulty, but he managed to do it. He replied equally quietly, “heh heh! i’m hurt, bro.” He placed a hand mockingly to his chest. “although, i think i help make some pretty amazing kids!” He grinned softly, and moved his hand to rest on top of the still-sleeping baby’s back. 

“Way to take all the credit, asshole.” Papyrus whispered as he raised a brow in good humor.

“hey! i said, i _helped_ i didn’t say how much i contributed.” Sans shrugged. “although, i think it’s at least, 70-30.”

Papyrus quickly put a hand to his mouth to stifle a laugh.

God, he looked so fucking happy it hurt. Sans clanked a kiss to his forehead, and was surprised when a hand grabbed his chin and brought him into a proper kiss.

“I love the name, Sans.”

 

 

Sans pulled away from Papyrus, trying to piece apart his words. “the…name?” He had spoken aloud, and instantly froze to look at the baby.

He continued to snore, dead-to-the-world in his tiredness.

Papyrus continued, “Yes, I really love it. Normally, I’d be pretty pissed at you just deciding it on your own…but,” Papyrus looked down at the sleeping baby on his chest. “I think it’s very nice. And, it was…ah-hem,” He blushed slightly, not meeting Sans’ eyes. “I think it was pretty…cute…of you to go ahead and put his name in my old book.”

 

 

That same chill ran up his spine as he turned back to the book.

He had thrown it away ages ago while he was drunk, having come to the realization that it carried with it so many memories from before. Almost as if it carried with it a piece of _him._

As if of their own accord, his hands opened to the front page.

In a delicate, swooping script that belonged to neither brother was Papyrus' name and the name:

 

 

Eras.


	19. Chapter 19

 

 

Sans felt sweat bead on his brow.

 

 

That name had never been in this book.

This was just recently scrawled.

 

 

“Sans!” Sans shook himself and saw Papyrus watching him with concern. “What’s wrong?” His brow was knit in the middle, his grip on the child tightening in his worry.

Sans gave him his best grin. “n-nothing, bro! i was just worried you wouldn’t like it...” He lied, the taste leaving a bitter taste on his tongue.

Papyrus looked unconvinced, but his attention shifted to the baby as he began to squirm and whine. He sat up in bed, and shifted the baby so that he cradled him on his back in his arms. For a moment, Sans let himself forget about what had happened. He let himself forget about whatever strange events had shifted into motion.  

Coming over to the bed, he sat on the edge, and looked over the small bundle of joy.

He was absolutely beautiful.

Sans sighed and leaned forward to kiss him on the head. The child huffed grumpily and grasped at his face, his small hands patting against Sans’ skull. He smiled at the tiny one’s attempts and clanked the little claws with kisses.

 

 

“Do you want to hold him?”

He froze. He looked up to see Papyrus watching him with his good eye, a tender warmth seeming to radiate from him. Sans looked at the baby, gently playing with his mouth. “…yeah.”

Papyrus shifted over so that Sans could get on the bed with him.

Sans felt so nervous, so ridiculously nervous. What if he dropped him?  What if he pinched his small fingers or if he grabbed him too roughly? He stifled the need to wring his hands, and swallowed hard.

There really was no need to feel this way. They were sitting on a plush bed, barely any room for the child to fall if he somehow dropped him. He would be extremely careful to avoid his tender bones. And of course he would be gentle with him! Even so, Sans couldn’t help feeling fear that he might fuck this up, that he might hurt him.

Papyrus gently placed him in his arms, clanking a quick kiss to his cheek. “You’re fine, Sans. I trust you.”

He barely heard him as he felt the bundle of bones squirm in his grasp, too excited to be still. His hands grasped at his shirt, his teeth clacking and bones rattling happily as he gazed up at him.

“Eras has taken a liking to you, Sans.” Papyrus wrapped his arms about Sans’ waist, resting his chin on his shoulder. “Nyeh heh heh! I’m not sure why, you’d think he’d be able to tell you were an asshole.” The other nipped at his vertebrae playfully. “I guess that means I won’t need to kill you after all.”

Sans stiffened and said nothing, the baby’s name being spoken aloud reminding him of the issue at hand.

Papyrus grabbed his chin and roughly pulled his skull round to look him in the eye. “Are you fucking serious, Sans? Did I really scare you? You think after all we’ve been through I’d actually kill you? I was only kidding!”

 

 

Quickly he came up with an excuse, “n-no, Pap! i’m not nervous about that, heh heh. he’s…just so tiny!” He threw him a smile, but his attempt clearly had failed.

The calculated steeliness resurfaced in Papyrus’ red gaze. “Sans. If we’re going to be doing this whole parenting thing, you need to stop lying to me.” The hand on his waist bit into his pelvis hard before relaxing. “I have put a certain amount of trust in you, but you have yet to trust me. There is something bothering you, and I want to know what it is.” Sans tried to look away, but the hand on his chin jerked him back. Papyrus’ voice lowered into a threatening growl, the previous warmth and happiness disappearing from his features. “This isn’t about just you and me anymore. I want to know what the hell is going on in your thick skull. _Now_.”

Sans had a hard time trusting. Not a lot in his life had given him the luxury of doing so. Being so close to death every single day would do that to you. Any mistake could be his last.

The baby in his arms began to cry, sensing the tension in the air.

Papyrus let go of his chin, though he eyed him darkly before taking Eras from him to comfort his crying.

 

 

Sans clicked his teeth, watching as Pap patted the fussy newborn into a more calmed state. A small hiccup breaking through his whines every now and then in slight distress.

Papyrus was right, as usual. If they were going to be taking care of this kid, he would have to start trusting Papyrus more.

“ok…Papyrus.”

He told him.

He told him everything.

The resets, the timelines, the human.

He told him about Gaster. He even gave him the picture that he’d crumpled in his pocket.

He left nothing undisclosed.

 

 

Papyrus listened intently, as he tended the baby, taking it all in. He barely said a word aside from a minor question here and there as Sans spoke. The picture had meant next to nothing to him, he did not remember any of it. Not the drawing, not Gaster, not even what had happened.

When it was all said and done, Sans sighed and leaned back against the headboard. He felt like an enormous weight had lifted from his shoulders. He felt weak from having to relive all of those terrible things, but he also felt like some of the burden had been shared.

 

Papyrus finally spoke, his voice quiet. “That was…a lot to take in, Sans.”

Sans looked down at the now sleeping baby in his brother’s arms, he’d dozed off from the lull in excitement.

“i know. i’m sorry, Pap-”

The other skeleton stopped him abruptly. “You should have told me sooner, but I suppose that doesn’t matter now. In any case…thank you, for trusting me.”

 

 

With a sigh, Sans slumped in exhaustion. Talking about all of that, reliving all of that had really taken a lot out of him.

He really wanted to make this work. Even if things would be rocky, he really wanted to be better at this, he wanted to be able to trust Papyrus. He only hoped things would continue to get better between them. Despite them both having admitted to feeling love for one another, that did not necessarily mean everything was going to be peachy-keen.

Things were still going to be tough, they were still going to have differences, and they were still going to have to work through their crazy life. And, yeah, he’d fucked up by not telling Papyrus sooner, he readily admitted that.

If Papyrus was going to be mad at him for a bit then, well, he deserved it.

He shifted closer to the edge of the bed before he closed his sockets, trying to keep to himself and give Papyrus space to cool off.

 

 

Sans opened his eyes in shock as Papyrus huffed and pulled him over to lean him up against his chest. Sans looked up at him, confused. With a groan of exasperated defeat, Papyrus leaned down and clanked a fast kiss to his forehead before he settled himself into the bed. “Get some sleep, runt.” He grunted down at him before shutting his socket to Sans’ curious look.

 

 

Sans kept his smile hidden as he yawned and let the warmth of the covers, softness of the pillows, and the gentle beating of the two souls next to him lull him to sleep.

 

 

It was about time he spoke with Gaster.

 

 


	20. Chapter 20

 

 

Sans stood in blackness.

 

 

A cold chill bit at his bones. Briefly he imagined that it was the cold embrace of death, eviscerating the warmth of life from his soul.

Only one creature inhabited this special hell.

An inky black figure seemed to meld up from the floor, hunching and churning until it was able to take on a somewhat monster-like shape.

But Sans knew better. This was no monster.

No, this thing had lost that distinction long ago.

 

 

He stood his ground as it approached. A face, pale as the moon and just as devoid of life, broke from the darkness. It stopped a short distance away, the deep voids of its eyes watching him with interest. White, emaciated hands blinked into existence. They twisted and shifted, their grotesquely long thin digits flicking in purposeful motions.

**HELLO, SANS.**

Sans didn’t even try to speak. He knew that no sound could survive in this span between life and death, this rift in time. Taking his hands from his jacket, he signed: **what do you want, Gaster?**

**HOW RUDE, NOT EVEN SAYING HELLO AFTER ALL THIS TIME?** The smile on Gaster’s face could do no more than twitch, though Sans could feel the annoyance in the air.

 

**you don’t deserve it, bastard.** Sans grit his teeth, he was already tired of this conversation. He hated this. He wanted to just wake up and leave the asshat stranded in the void to rot in the silence. **why the hell did you do that?**

 

It seemed to Sans that Gaster was starting to puddle into the floor, as if losing his hold on his shape. **THE NAME?**

**yeah, the fucking name. what gave you the fucking right to go ahead and do that?**

Gaster’s form splattered to the floor momentarily before he righted himself again with a grotesque twist of black ooze. **YOU PICKED IT OUT, SANS. EVENTUALLY YOU WOULD HAVE PICKED IT, IN THE FUTURE, THAT IS. I MERELY HELPED YOU ALONG. YOU BOTH LOVED IT SO WELL, I THOUGHT IT MIGHT BE AN INTERESTING GIFT. THAT, AND YOUR BROTHER’S FAVORITE BEDTIME STORY.**

**who the fuck said you could do something like that? no, you know what? i don’t care. you know what I really want to know? why now of all times did you decide to show up? why now of all times did you deem it worthy of showing yourself? what are you trying to gain from this?** Sans had wanted to say more, but his anger had made his hands shaky. His signs became slurred and messy, much too difficult to read. With a silent roar, he put up both of his hands and flipped off his father. Too angry to do much else.

Unimpressed and unaffected by his son’s anger, he signed: **SANS, BE RATIONAL. THIS IS NOT THE TIME NOR PLACE FOR THIS. I HAVE SOMETHING VERY IMPORTANT TO TELL YOU.**

**oh, what? that you finally found a way to fix the barrier? guess what, fucker?** He stomped his foot on the ground in anger, his teeth gritting so hard he felt them creak under the pressure. **i don’t give a damn! the kingdom can go to hell for all I care! and you can too, you worthless piece of shit!**

Pointing both hands at Gaster, his fingers splayed, he curled his middle fingers to pinch them against his thumbs, and then flicked them out towards his father.

**i hate you!**

Gaster started to sign, but Sans closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see it. He didn’t want this manipulative bastard to try to say anything. He had made his choices.

 

 

An ice-cold hand lighted on his shoulder.

Sans flinched away in disgust, the shoulder that had been afflicted with his touch tingled and felt dirty. He snarled out an angry curse, only to remember that no sound was permitted in the limbo. Before he could sign anything, he stopped dead.

**SANS.**

Gaster placed a fist against his chest, his thumb resting atop it. He shifted it, rotating it clockwise over his dead soul.

 

 

**I’M SORRY.**

 

His soul thumped in his chest. His skull roared with a slew of thoughts. He was…sorry? HE WAS SORRY?!

He felt sick, he swore the marrow in his bones had chilled into a sludge.

Sans couldn’t take this.

This was all a ploy. It had to be. It was just another way to make him do his will.

 

 

Power surged within him. He let his magic take over, coming to life in his palms. Before the blasters had time to fully materialize, he pointed a damning finger at the creature before him. A surreally silent blast of red magic shot out at his target, the magic sparking and making the air electric against his bones.

Before the smoke had cleared, Sans loosed another volley of blasts, this time summoning all of the weapons at his disposal. The void swallowed the brightness of the impact as if it had swathed it in cotton. Despite the attack seeming less powerful, it felt good. He felt good. He felt really good. The only thing that’d be better is if it had actually killed the fucker.

Of course, he was still there.

He knew nothing could hurt him here, but damn it felt good to think that it might.

With a panting laugh, he signed: **god, i hate you so fucking much. do you know what you put us through? do you know just how much we’ve suffered cause of you? i don’t think you do.**

Gaster merely stood, his expression the same as it always was, a grin.

 

Sans continued: **your stupid fucking barrier. “save the kingdom” my ass. you’re a sick, fucking bastard.** Sans laughed humorlessly, the feeling was there, but the sound mute. **and when the going got too rough you just bailed out, huh? _you fucking bailed._ you left us to _fucking die_.**

Gaster took in his words, absorbing them, not looking away from his angry signing.

 

**after all that you did to me, you still couldn’t succeed, and so you took the goddamn easy way out.** Cruel mirth bubbled through his core as he signed: **as if it were that easy for _us._ after you fucking threw yourself into the goddamn core like the coward you are, we had to keep going. we had to run and hide and fight. we’ve died over and over and over _because of you._**

Sans grinned wider, threatening to match that of his father’s as maddening giddiness chipped at his sanity.

**and look at you now! stuck here to rot for all eternity!** He shrugged. **i mean, you know what they say, karma’s a fucking bitch!**

He laughed and laughed, he laughed until he felt like his ribs would crack from the force. He hunched in on himself, bracing against his knees. He laughed till it fucking hurt.

 

 

A chill ran up his spine as he felt a grotesque wetness form about his feet.

 

 

“what?” He mouthed silently, too shocked to remember his signing.

A dark slickness had coiled around his feet, swallowing him up in a numbing cold.

He writhed and yelled, he let his magic flow back to his hands, only to be caught by darkness. His panting breaths and frantically beating soul were all that moved by the time the tar had reached his neck.

 

 

Sans cried out into the silence as a horrific sensation slid across his skull, worming its way into his left socket. He shivered and twitched, his skull filling with chilling ooze.

“Listen.”

He stopped his struggle.

He could hear him.

Sans could hear his voice.

 

 

Gravelly and layered with static, the voice of the late Dr. W.D. Gaster rang in his head.

“I’m not here to argue with you.” The voice was thick with a growl and that same cold-monotone that he had held in real life. “You have an opportunity, Sans. You have a window to release yourselves from this loop.”

Sans wheezed, his skull burning from the intense cold.

“The human will make their way through the ruins in exactly three days’ time tomorrow. You must be ready for when that happens.”

A blinding pain shook him to his core as images flashed through his mind. A door, surrounded by snow. A flower with a face. Red bones in the snow. The Captain of the Guard, a grin upon her face. Mettaton dramatically appearing from a cloud of smoke. A bright light. Red splattering a garden of golden flowers.

 

 

He gasped as the images stopped.

The voice in his head began to break up, the static distorting it.

“ **B** rI _n_ G ThE c **H** Ild.”  

 

He awoke to the sound of static, a dull pain pounding in his skull.

 

 

He had three days to prepare.

 

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, 5000+ hits? What the fuck? You guys like this shit?  
> *shrug* Cool. I do too.
> 
> Oh yeah, I am also going to try and post on a regular schedule from here on out. Sundays. ...Except today. My younger bro is coming over for spring break, and I want to spend as much time with him as I can.
> 
> Here is a FUCKING ADORABLE fanart of Pap and Eras. [Oh my god its so cute!](http://edgy-skeleton.tumblr.com/post/142372383883/i-dont-even-know-how-to-hands-please-help-fanart) This was made by [@edgy-skeleton](http://edgy-skeleton.tumblr.com/)

 

 

After doing some cleaning – especially the…mess, that he had somehow forgotten about in Sans’ room – he went about the dishes.

Eras was with Sans on the couch, and for once Papyrus was glad to have him just sit around for a bit so he could watch the baby.

He scrunched his brow at a particularly difficult spot of food on the bowl from last night. Sans hadn’t had the decency to rinse it, and the spaghetti sauce had set like cement. He mumbled under his breath about Sans’ incompetence as he scrubbed.

 

Sans had spoken with him earlier this morning about his encounter with the black figure, Gaster – which is apparently the same being he had encountered in his dream. It all seemed a little surreal to him, what, with them having dreams involving their apparent father and all. He had told Sans about his own experience, and he hadn’t known what or why he would have said such a thing to him.

Perhaps because Gaster saw him as his family, somehow?

Papyrus truly didn’t even remember him. All he ever knew was Sans. And he still felt that Sans was his only family, despite the new information. Well, Sans and the baby bones that they had created together.

 

 

While Papyrus’ dream had been odd to say the least, Sans’ experience was quite alarming. If he could believe Sans…then there would be a human lurking about the Underground in three days.

He sniffed to himself. How oddly specific.

He still wasn’t sure how on earth their deceased (Would deceased even be the right word for him?) father could possibly know something like that. Sans had told him it had to do with him jumping into the Core. It had caused his body and soul to be ripped from the very fabric of existence, and at the same time allowed him to watch it all from outside time and something, something, something. Papyrus had never had such an interest in science as Sans did, and honestly he didn’t care to start. The only thing he got out of Sans’ explanation was that Gaster’s attempt at suicide had been quite a spectacular, and somewhat ironic, failure.  Though technically he had failed in one regard, it had granted him a unique and almost omnipotent access to the world.

 

 

The bowl in his claws scrubbed clean, he rinsed the dish, and placed it with the others to dry. Finally finished with the dishes, he wiped off his hands and his brow, feeling satisfied. As he made his way into the living room, he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his mouth.

 

While Sans still had to prove himself as a viable caretaker, he showed promise.

Sans was lying on the couch holding the baby up in the air, letting the small one flail and squeal with laughter at being high up. Sans was laughing and talking in a ridiculous manner, his voice distorted humorously for the child’s sake, “who’s a little shithead, huh? you are ya bag of bones! heh heh! ya like being up in the air?”

Eras babbled at him incoherently, kicking at Sans as he struggled in his grip.

Sans brought him down and nuzzled his face against the smaller skull. “bleh bleh bleh! what are ya trying to say, huh? bleh bleh! i can’t understand ya! talk straight, ya sound like you’re _babbling_ , buddy! heh heh!”

Sans showed A LOT of promise.

 

 

Papyrus felt a shiver run up his spine at seeing the two of them together: his child and his partner. His soul swelled in his chest, a powerful feeling of strength running through his bones.

Life had been hard for Papyrus, sure. Fraught with battle and strife, pain and self-sacrifice, but he was used to handling responsibility.

He had taken the burden of responsibility upon himself ever since that life-changing day.

A hand snaked up to the gaping hole in the left side of his skull as if on its own accord. The same bastard that had given him his old scar had eventually taken away his vision as well. With a lingering phantasmal pain in his ruined socket, he pulled away from it. It’s not like he blamed Sans for what happened. Well, yeah, he did…it was his fault anyways, but he also knew that Sans couldn’t handle himself. Papyrus wanted nothing more than for Sans to be able to take care of himself, to stand up for himself, and to take responsibility.

Yet…

Seeing Sans and Eras, feeling safe and happy under his protection, and dependent on him…he felt…needed. He placed a bony hand to his chest, the feeling in his soul was incomprehensibly strong. It made him feel greater than himself. It made him want to pull them close to him, tell them that they were his, and because they were his he would do anything within his power to make them happy.

 

It was so selfish of him to feel that way, and he knew it.

 

Sans should be more independent and he shouldn’t be relying on him so heavily. He let Papyrus do all the walking, talking, and fighting for him. He was hopelessly needy and lazy and terrible at everything.

However, Papyrus, being a selfish monster like he was, could actually say that he loved it. He loved that Sans gave him so much control.

The beating of his soul made him well aware of his warped priorities. He shouldn’t let Sans be so needy. It wasn’t good for him. But perhaps it was just his nature?

No, it couldn’t be. Sans was stronger than he knew. Getting up to face the day despite his lack of hp, despite him being so small, and despite his weak, nervous-prone soul. Sans didn’t need to rely on him. And if he was a good brother, he would be harsher on him, he would make him become better, he would put a stop to this babying.

Papyrus should refuse to continue to support and protect Sans. Sans had shown a lot of responsibility lately. He had not drunk at all over the past few days, he had actually helped around the house, and he took care of Eras without him asking. Papyrus should be happy for Sans. He was finally growing up and being the better monster that he always knew he could be.

Maybe he should stop caring for Sans quite so much-

A wracking pain pounded from inside his ribs.

 

 

The ache was deep and took his breath away, reminding him just why it was he had taken over in the first place. The last time Sans had been in control, he had given up. He had drunk himself into a dull stupor each day, not even bothering to acknowledge Papyrus’ existence on some days. Sans’ idea of control was self-centered and involved nothing but his own cheap and easy pleasures. And on that life-changing day, Sans had stopped caring about himself, about everything, and even about Papyrus.

He had given himself up to die.

Seeing Sans huddled in the snow, his jacket askew on his frame, sockets heavy with drink and lined red with lack of sleep. He had truly given up completely. His normally snide voice had gone serious. His smug grin, and mischievous eyes were nothing but a dim likeness of his former self. All that was left of Sans then was a broken and weary creature. The calmness of his voice as he spoke still haunted him. “you’re better off without me.”

 

Sans could not care for himself.

Sans needed him.

 

Sans had given him the boost he needed to take up training with Undyne. Sans had given him a reason to work so hard. Sans had motivated him to keep going even when he felt tired and hurt. Because Sans _needed_ him. And he soon found that he craved to be needed, to be relied upon, to be in command.

He quickly discovered that he needed Sans just as much as Sans needed him.

Call Papyrus sick, call him crazy, but it was the truth. Other monsters might not understand, but the feeling of being needed, respected, depended upon, and trusted with the safety and happiness of another…it felt a lot like love. No, to him, it was love. A very deep and wonderful expression of it.

With Sans, he really felt loved by the way that he needed him.

His tainted, poisoned, twisted version of love was incredibly strong for this small family. It was his, and no one else’s, and he would fight to his last breath to make sure they were well cared for in every single way.

 

 

Papyrus coughed, making Sans flip his head on the back of the armrest and look at him in shock. He sat up, bringing the baby to rest against his chest as a blush crossed his features. “uh…hey, boss. i was just, ya know, _kidding_ around. heh heh.”

Papyrus rolled his eye at the pun, but came over to sit on the couch beside the two.

 

 

Seeing Papyrus, Eras put out his arms and made a “gimme” gesture at him, to which Papyrus took him from Sans.

He was growing remarkably fast.

It’d been…what, a day? If that?!

Papyrus wasn’t sure how he felt about the rapid growth. Sans had shown him the stack of books the librarian-doctor had given them, and he had read the chapter that apparently most suited them, “Rock Monsters”. The information was…interesting. It had said that rock monsters quickly progress through gestation and infancy and then mellowed out as they got older, but he still wasn’t sure if he should believe it or not. After all, they were not rock monsters.

Bouncing the baby on his knee, he marveled at the fact that the baby seemed to already be able to somewhat support himself on his soft spine. With a little help, of course. Eras was still a bit of a handful when it came to his neediness to move about, despite lacking the ability to do so. It seemed like Papyrus was always tending to his cries: picking him up, carrying him around, allowing him to look at something he found interesting. He was a terribly fussy, curious thing.

 

Sans helped too, though not as much as Papyrus. And that was all his doing entirely. Papyrus felt a very strong need to be close to the child, and he got a bit pissy when he was away for too long. He just felt…protective. Similar to how he felt about Sans, but different in a variety of ways.

He brought the child up and gently nibbled on the grabby hands that reached for his face.

The little shit always loved it when Papyrus played with his hands.

 

Eras giggled and patted at his face, smacking at his nasal aperture, and trying to grab at the bright glow of his red eye. Papyrus pulled away with a chuckle before the kid tried to poke him in the socket. “I’ve only got the one eye, runt! You can’t have it!”

Sans snickered beside him, to which Papyrus glared.

Taking the hint, he shut up.

While Papyrus appreciated Sans wanting to help and stay close to the child, he felt that the smaller skeleton should be back at work. Somehow he wasn’t surprised at the thought that the lazybones might try to use this as an excuse to stay home. “Couldn’t you be doing something?”

Sans gave him a flat expression, and then got up off the couch, stretching out a long slew of pops and cricks. “i’m flattered ya thought of me, boss.” He winked at Papyrus, who scowled. “i _did_ do something. in our bedroom.”

Papyrus scrunched his nasal ridge in distaste at the obvious innuendo. “Really, Sans? You really are disgusting.”

“heh heh. that’s not what i meant, boss. but I appreciate ya thinking about me like that.” Sans licked at his teeth, and flashed him a wide grin. “kind of a turn-on, honestly.” The smaller skeleton scooted closer, boldy.

He scooted away in response, growling, “Are you being serious about actually doing something, or were you just hoping to rustle my bones?” He could never tell sometimes if Sans was joking or if he was being genuine.

“i can rustle your bones, if that’s what you want.”

“GODDMANIT, SANS! QUIT FUCKING AROUND!” How was it possible for one person to be so fucking infuriating? “IF YOU’RE NOT ACTUALLY GOING TO HELP MAYBE YOU SHOULD GO BACK TO YOUR SENTRY!”

The smaller skeleton flinched, he looked honestly hurt. “i _am_ helping! i’ve been helping!”

“More like you’ve been avoiding your duties.” Papyrus hissed.

As soon as Papyrus said those words, he instantly regretted it.

 

 

Sans seemed to shrink into his hoodie from his words, looking much smaller. His tired eyes darted away from his. “b-boss…i really meant it when i said i did something. i mean, i _tried_ to do something...” He shuffled his way to the stairs as Papyrus watched him head up to their bedroom, and blinked in surprise as Sans quickly whipped around to yell, “asshole!” Before heading inside.

 

 

He had really fucked up something terrible. Papyrus knew Sans was trying. Why the hell had he said that? Sans had actually been putting a good foot forward! He just wasn’t used to praising Sans or seeing him as anything but lazy. Fuck, he was going to have to change if things were going to work out between them. Especially if Sans had already changed…

He was shaken from his guilty musing as he felt a tug on his sweater, followed by a gentle whimper.

Ah, hell.

Big tears welled in the tiny skeleton’s sockets, nervous at his loud shouting. He really needed to watch it, not just for Sans. This kid was going to end up all kinds of fucked up at this rate.

“Ugh, shit.” Papyrus brought him in close and planted a kiss to his forehead in apology. “I’m sorry, little one. Your dad makes me…really angry sometimes…” Gently bouncing the quietly crying almost-toddler as he got up from the couch. He patted his back and softly reassured him into a calmer state by the time he reached the top of the steps. Once at their bedroom door, he took a humbling breath and went inside.

He blinked in surprise at what Sans had made.

 

In their room was an odd, cage-thing. He walked over, a little curious at the strange contraption. “When did you?”

“this morning while you were busy.” Sans explained matter-of-factly with a shrug, "it’s basically a baby-cage. one of the books called it a crib.”

Papyrus examined the craftsmanship. When had Sans learned to wood-work? The crib was fairly basic, nothing fancy to it, just four sides with bars to hold the child within. Huh, it really was a baby-cage. He knelt down to inspect said bars, where the baby would grasp. He felt the material, making certain it was sanded smooth. It was. Smoothed to a soothing, almost silky finish beneath his phalanges, perfect for tender hands. Being a skeleton with high standards he also noted that a lot of care was taken to be sure none of the nails were sticking out or in easy reach.

Though simple and rudimentary, it was…acceptable.

He straightened from his close inspection of the bars to peer at the interior. Inside, there was even a small mattress! Where had he even found that? He shook himself from that thought, it didn’t matter. What really mattered was that Sans had actually thought all of this through and put a tremendous amount of effort into it; for him being a lazyass.

Something was out of place, however.

His eye focused on a strange device, attached to the front of the crib, directly above where the baby would sleep…

“that’s a walkie-talkie.” Sans broke his thoughts, and Papyrus was shocked to see that Sans had come to stand right beside him, watching him inspect his work. He held up the walkie-talkie’s mate for Papyrus to hold. He took it out of reflex, his mind swirling with confusion and surprise at everything in front of him. Sans walked over to the crib and leaned over on his tip toes and began whispering into the walkie-talkie. The sound of Sans’ voice came through to the device in his hand. “we can hear him with this if we aren’t in the room.”

 

 

Papyrus stood dumbfounded. God, he felt stupid.

And the cheeky expression and waggling brows Sans was giving him was not helping.

Papyrus blinked himself out of it, taking it all in again. He couldn’t believe Sans had put so much effort into this… It didn’t seem real. He struggled for words. He truly didn’t know what to say. Sans was actually going above and beyond any and all standards he had set for him.

From being by his side through the whole pregnancy ordeal, to taking such a caring and loving interest in Eras, and now with him taking responsibility and initiative to make Eras’ life better…

It was unbelievable.

Sans flashed him a smug grin, and placed a finger under his chin. He closed Papyrus’ mouth which had fallen open in surprise with an audible clack.

“ya look like an idiot, boss.”

 

 

A thin blush of embarrassment crossed his cheekbones at his wit. Bold piece of shit.

He supposed he was forgiven, but he still knew he needed to actually say it. It was only right. He hadn’t given Sans enough credit, and he was certainly deserving of more. He placed a hand to his nasal ridge and pinched it with a sigh. He hated being wrong. “Ah…Sans?” He turned his eye back to see his brother waiting expectantly, a shit-eating grin on his skull. As if he knew what Papyrus was going to say next, damnit. He huffed and finally caved, “Sans, I apologize.” A soft, crooked grin twitched its way onto his skull in slight embarrassment. “Nyeh heh, I guess I’m not used to you being anything other than lazy. You’re…deserving of more credit.”

He turned and gestured to the crib, before eyeing the walkie-talkie in his hand with purpose. “And, uh, this is…really nice, Sans.” Though his pride had been nicked, he found that his anger had all but melted away. He had meant those words…wholeheartedly.

Sans’ smugness had completely been obliterated. His big grin wavered in confusion as his cheekbones reddened and his feet shifted uncomfortably under Papyrus’ praise. “i…uh, th-thanks, boss.”

 

 

They stood in relative silence, but the tension was thankfully broken by the sound of Eras babbling and patting at Papyrus shoulder. He turned his eye down to the bundle of bones, and asked, “What is it?” Bringing Eras over to the crib, he let the curious child look over it excitedly. “You like it? It’s very nice, isn’t it? Sans made it all for you, spoiled little shit.”

“h-hey, boss?”

“Yes?” Papyrus looked over at him expectantly, but Sans appeared to lose his nerve, flinching as he caught his eye and darting his own away.

“i-i’m going to the dump, ok?”

He blinked, surprised at Sans feeling the need to confirm his whereabouts with him. He shrugged, “Sure, if you feel it’s necessary…what are you going there for?”

“i want to find some things for Eras, maybe. he can’t exactly run around naked forever, heh heh.”

Right… He had grown so accustomed to the small child being without clothes that it had seemed almost natural – oh god, had he just made a pun? – and it didn’t bother him. He was only a child after all, not like he understood the shame or indecency of being without clothes yet. But Sans did have a point. “That is an excellent idea.” Papyrus planned on heading to Undyne’s tomorrow to get his armor repaired, and he certainly wasn’t going to take Eras with him naked and without protection from Snowdin’s cold.

 

His older brother beamed and nodded to him nervously, sweat beading on his brow as he quickly shuffled his slippers out the door and made his way out.

 

 

When he heard the front door close, he released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

Eras squirmed in his arms, his hands batting at his chest.

Papyrus looked down to see his bright red soul flashing with an intense warmth. A comforting warmth. Chuckling, he brought Eras over to their bed and sat down with him on it, toying with the baby as he giggled on his back, batting at his fingers.

He played idly, his thoughts preoccupied with thoughts of Sans, and all the ways in which he had pushed himself in order to prove himself to Papyrus.

Papyrus believed in Sans now.

And he never wanted to let him slip away.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so I'm going to start delving more into how I think their relationship would actually develop as a result of something so drastic as a child being introduced to their lives. I'm also going to start touching on a topic that I personally think is wildly misrepresented in other Underfell relationship fics: BDSM.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder: I plan on trying to post weekly now, by Sunday.
> 
> Oh, uh, also...I'm not an artist or anything, but I thought I'd go ahead and give you an opportunity to see a doodle I made of Eras. In case any of you wanted to check it out. Its a pretty basic, but I like it. If you want to keep your personal headcanon intact then probably not best to look at it.  
> Find it [HERE](http://yupimgross.tumblr.com/post/141228432736/she-whispers-im-a-professional-goddamnit-as)

 

 

Piles of rubbish littered the otherwise pristine and beautiful waters of Waterfall. Mountains of trash that had collected here washed down from the surface, the items forgotten and imperfect, much like the residents that lived here.

 

 

Sans watched as another load of garbage came tumbling down to splash and clatter at the bottom.

Though he knew what he generally wanted to find, his mind was preoccupied and he kept losing track of his searching.

Papyrus had apologized to him? Sans honestly didn’t think he deserved the apology, considering that he had been the one trying to get under his skin – so to speak. Papyrus _never_ apologized. Mostly because he never did anything wrong, though Sans kind of thought him incapable of it even if he did end up fucking up. So it was definitely a shock to hear those words from him. And what was more alarming than the apology was that he had actually told him the crib that he made was nice.

 

He had hoped to get a little praise for the crib. After all, it had taken him most of the morning to make it. He had expected maybe a nod of approval, or perhaps a “It’s not a complete piece of shit.”, or something along those lines. He really couldn’t wrap his head around the praise Papyrus had given him. Not only had he said the crib was nice, but he also told him he deserved more credit. His cheekbones lit ablaze at just remembering the words. He wasn’t used to getting compliments, but that wasn’t what had made him get so worked up.

What had sent him tipping over the edge into a shaking, nervous wreck was that look Papyrus had given him. It had been both intense and soft, hungry and yet seemingly content. It had been an expression that Sans did not know. All he did know was that he’d do anything to see it again.

 

 

Sighing, he decided to get back to doing something useful.

If he wanted to keep being a part of Papyrus and Eras' lives he needed to prove that he wanted it. And holy shit did he want it. He couldn't stand the thought of being alone anymore.

He might have been fine with it before the past couple days. He honestly hadn't cared if Papyrus kicked him out. He hadn't cared if Papyrus finally snapped and never talked to him again. It would have been better for the younger skeleton to not have him moping around anyways. And Sans would have been left to fend for himself, to wander the forest in fear like the runt he was.

Before the last couple of days, he would have willingly been turned to dust.

 

 

A plush bear floated gently to a rest by his foot, a recent arrival from the cascading trash of the falls. On a whim, he picked it up. Bright button eyes, a cloth nose, and a bizarrely cute frown greeted him. It wasn't in too bad of shape, a little soggy of course, but that could be fixed. It was a good find, especially compared to some of the other shit around.

"heh, i bet if i got this for Eras he'd _bearly_ be able to contain himself!" He chuckled at his own pun, and felt oddly mellow as he thought about the kid playing with the toy. He could make some pretty good bear-related puns, and the kid would laugh. He’d probably think the second-hand toy was the best thing in the world, since he didn’t have any toys of his own at home. God, it’d be cute as hell.

He smiled to himself.

Eras was a good kid. Curious, happy-go-lucky, and he always seemed to be laughing or smiling. He was a real ray of sunshine in the dark Underground.

And he loved the little shit.

 

 

He just wished he could spend more time with the kid. Papyrus and Sans' relationship regarding Eras was...tentative, to say the least. When Papyrus was pregnant, Sans thought of him taking a “Mommy” role to be amusing, he hadn't really expected it to be a possibility. Now though, he supposed that role fit the warrior skeleton quite well, as hilarious as that sounded. He was very protective of the kid, seeming to always be hovering nearby if he was left alone with Sans for too long. Wherever Eras was Papyrus was not far away, and the two were nearly inseparable.

Sans thought that maybe it was because Eras was so young, or at least, that’s what he hoped. The books talked about “new mothers” being overly-protective. So, hopefully that was the case.

Chuckling, he couldn’t help but think back on the strange pair. A tall, intimidating, battle-scarred skeleton and a soft, newborn bag of bones. Seeing the big bad monster play with the tiny skeleton with such care and tenderness, it was both shocking and soul-warming. You’d never think it possible by looking at him, but Papyrus was really good with Eras, and always seemed to know what was wrong.

He really was great at everything. A great guard, a great parent, a great lover, a great partner-

 

 

Sans stopped his rummaging, his hands cascading into a shaky fit with nervousness.

Partner…

The last couple of days had been more or less a roller coaster for the two brothers. And he wasn't quite sure what the hell to make of it.

Yeah, they had confessed their feelings, but Sans was starting to wonder if that had just been the "hormones" talking. Because Papyrus had not made mention of such feelings since then.

His soul beat furiously in his chest, a deep, resounding pound that made his skull hurt.

Of their own accord, his hands began to start their blasted wringing, and sweat beaded his brow.

“shit.” He choked, as he tried to settle his panting breaths. His soul beating mercilessly hard, he let himself sink down to sit on a nearby ice-chest. Head falling into his hands, he tried to take deep breaths, tried to calm his fluttering and pained soul. He couldn’t believe Papyrus didn’t mean what he had said. He couldn’t believe after everything that he would just shrug that all off.

 

 

Sans was so fucked up.

He was beyond just admiring Papyrus.

Hell, he was probably beyond _loving_ Papyrus.

Fuck, you know, he was _way_ beyond that. Over the past couple days, he felt so much fucking more than just simple admiration and love. Papyrus was incredible in every way. He had fought for him _while he was pregnant_ and then he had gone through what have been some of the worst pain he could imagine, judging from his screams. Yet, despite everything that had happened to him, Papyrus was still powerful, relentless, stead-fast, and just absolutely amazing. He let nothing hold him back, let nothing deter him or push him around. He got right back up and took charge, cleaning the house, cooking, making sure they were safe and fed.

He ran his phalanges over his skull roughly, shame and anger welling up inside of him. Even though he tried to do good by Papyrus, he felt like it wasn’t enough. When would it ever be enough?

Sans felt like he practically worshipped Papyrus anymore.

He was all he thought about, all he dreamt about, all he cared about.

He wanted nothing more than to please him, and to prove himself worthy to him. He wanted to make Papyrus proud, and wanted him to love him deeply. He wanted to make him feel like he could trust him, and let him know how much he trusted him. He wanted him to fuck him into the ground, and give him all that he desired. He wanted to pleasure him and learn of his own desires, make him feel good. He wanted to kiss and love him deeply and truly. He wanted him to hold him tight and not let him go. He wanted him to be his everything.

He groaned loudly, the sound almost a wail. What the hell was he thinking? These were stupid thoughts…and probably not healthy, but that was kind of a moot point. Sans was anything but “healthy” anyways. And if Papyrus felt even a fraction of how he felt, it’d be a miracle. Sans was too goddamn needy. Papyrus didn’t deserve to be dragged down by all the baggage that Sans brought with him.

 

He quickly focused on the trash pile in front of him as a way to distract himself.

There was bound to be something of use here.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Papyrus flipped through his “special” book.

Sans talking about heading to the dump had reminded him of it. For he had found it at the dump some odd years ago. At the time, he had thought it was a book detailing different ways of capturing and containing humans, with a few odd poses and interactions between the humans depicted therein.

 

He had since learned that this book was not intended for _that_ kind of restraining. How he possibly could have ever thought a book called, “Domination Guide” was for human capturing was beyond him.

Pages detailing different ways to tie up a partner, safe ways of manipulating another’s sensations without causing harm, tips on sensitive points and places to avoid, and how to take care of a partner afterwards. He chuckled to himself as he came across a few of his favorite pages. He had consulted the book a few times…mostly on how to handle Sans’ seemingly insatiable heats without getting himself too involved. Most of them were under the “Bondage” section. A lot of the stuff in here he’d used to keep Sans from getting too touchy-feely on him.

 

 

He felt a bit nervous as he turned to the pages near the back, where he had not read quite as much, due to them involving more intimacy on his part – and by extension putting him in an unpleasant situation. Recent events had made such possibilities more than a little appealing now, however. Normally, he had looked through these pages with hardly a bat of an eye. But, well…

The light coming from his pelvis as his mind came up with different scenarios involving Sans was a new development. Shifting his hips, he tried to ignore the building pool of magic.

Right now, he needed to develop a plan. Flipping through the various pages, he made careful note of things he thought Sans might like. And after helping Sans through so many heats now, he had a relatively good idea of what got him off and what caused him to utterly break into pleasured hazes.

Papyrus would be providing him with the latter this night.

 

Hopefully.

 

He felt like Sans deserved it. He had done a lot lately, and he really had made him feel…proud. Yes, that was it. He made him feel quite proud.

And Papyrus may or may not want to do some of these things to Sans as well.

 

 

Cheekbones getting warm, he chuckled to himself. God, he really was getting in deep with this. He hadn’t expected such strong emotions in regard to Sans. Yes, he admitted that he loved Sans. And he did! Truly, deeply, unbelievably and terrifyingly so. His soul jumped at the thought, reminding him just how much fear he was starting to feel from this great amount of emotional attachment.

Papyrus was a great monster. He was fierce, powerful, and feared. But even he held some…insecurities.

He wanted Sans. He wanted him to be his. Wholly and _only_ his. He wanted to make him his in every conceivable way.

 

 

Before, he might have been able to stand the thought of Sans one day finding a mate of his own. Not just anyone though! They would have had to know how to properly care for him, protect him, and they had to be very patient with both his drinking, and his jokes and pranks. Sans had a lot of requirements. And not just anyone would be appropriate! He certainly wouldn’t have allowed some random-ass fucker off the street take Sans.

Especially not some fucking pun-lady from behind a _goddamn locked door._ He sniffed angrily at the memory. His brother had no standards whatsoever. Sans had told him about her some time ago. Seemed to be truly enamored with the lady, saying she was the only one who liked his puns and all that shit.

What if it was a trick? What if she wanted to hurt him? How the fuck could he possibly have feelings for someone he didn’t know?! _He didn’t even_ _know her name for fuck’s sake._

Of course, that had been what he’d told Sans. And, yes, it all was completely rational thinking. It helped Sans see that his feelings were quite idiotic and rash.

Papyrus had been glad that he was able to reason with him. It really had been idiotic and rash to feel that way about someone you didn’t know.

 

Though, he did admit to himself that part of his anger at Sans hadn’t just been at his “love”-struck stupidity.

Truly, he couldn’t stand the thought of Sans going to another.

 

Who would honestly try to understand him? Who would put so much effort into keeping him happy? Who would defend him with their very life?

 

 

Wincing, a sharp pain stabbed through his soul just from imagining Sans with someone else. Cruelly, his mind twisted the ghostly blade in his soul, forcing him to imagine the small skeleton with someone else. Someone stronger and better able to care for him.

Papyrus wanted what was best for Sans, even if that meant his own detriment. If someone came along who was stronger, swifter, smarter, and cared more deeply for Sans than Papyrus...

He would let him go.

It was only fair. He sighed to himself, soul finally dying down into a dull and prominent ache. Melancholy washed over him at the thought, an odd sense of defeat he was not used to feeling hitting him full force. Sans was a great monster; he was just not given a chance to prove it. He deserved happiness. He had never had it in his miserable life, and Papyrus should feel happy to give it to him in any way that he could. And if someone else could provide Sans with it, then, well, that would be…best.

 

However, until Papyrus found that someone, he supposed he would keep the job.

 

 

Papyrus pinched his brow and laughed at his own self-pity. Sans had no idea how weak he made him. He had no idea the amount of power he held in this relationship. He could crush his soul if he so wanted. He could destroy him.

 

God, he loved him.

He would do anything for him.

He wondered if Sans knew that. He wondered if Sans was aware of just how much he put himself into this.

Papyrus thought of him constantly, watching out for him, making sure he was safe and healthy. Sans was always foremost on his list of priorities.

 

Yes, he might bark and nag him. But it was all for him! He wanted Sans to see his full potential, he wanted him to better himself, he wanted Sans to see himself as he saw him. He was witty, intelligent, funny, curious, and, yes, strong. He was so much greater than he knew. He just needed to be shown it. Papyrus _wanted_ to show him. He wanted to hold him close and tell him these things, make him believe these wonderful things that he refused to accept about himself. One day, he would see.

Papyrus cared about him. He…respected him. It wasn’t your typical form of respect, no, but he appreciated Sans giving him so much trust. Letting him take care of him, allowing him to take charge…

That took a special kind of monster.

And a special kind of strength.

One that Papyrus knew he did not possess.

And he admired that.

 

 

Shifting his feet, he finally came to the section of the book he had been both anticipating and dreading: “Domination and Submission.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, here we go into the BDSM relationship dynamic.  
> I hope I do it justice.  
> I'm actually really nervous, ha ha...


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit short, so I will most likely be adding on to it, though that is not a promise.

 

 

The pages within this section of the book were more a guide for a relationship of sorts than anything else. He supposed that was why the book was named as it was, and why this section was near the back. This part was trickier than the others. He had briefly scanned over it once or twice, and he agreed with a lot of what it had to say about a partnership. Namely he agreed that a partnership should be mostly built on trust. Trust was an important part of everything in this book.

You could hardly do half of this stuff to a monster without their conscious consent after all.

 

This book is what had told him about a "safe word" and that in and of itself was a form of trust. He had to be trusted to stop when the word was spoken, to understand that while he played the role of controller he was ultimately the one under control. He was afforded his power, and it took a lot of trust on both their parts. One to be careful and knowledgeable, the other to know when to speak up and put their foot down.

It was a balance.

 

 

A balance made up of perfectly aligning opposites. 

In a way it was much like him and Sans, Papyrus mused. They had always been quite different from one another. One was energetic, arbitrary, athletic, and proud. The other lackadaisical, docile, inventive, and unabashed. Their personalities clashed on a daily basis, their arguments black and white on a topic of gray. They fought, they screamed, they did everything in between. And yet, they both stayed with one another. Drawn by some strange need to stay close. Perhaps it was because they were kin. Perhaps it was love. Perhaps they were a perfect balance of their own.

 

Either way, he knew what he wanted.

He wanted Sans.

 

 

Finally finding what he had been looking for, he marked his page and snapped the book shut. Placing it on his shelf for later, he went over to his dresser.

Shuffling through his garments he came to his unworn suit. Pausing momentarily, he shook off his nerves, took it from the drawer, and placed it atop his bed.

He would be wearing it later.

Right now, though... His eye wandered to the drawer and spotted the item he had been looking for. A collar and short leash lay on the bottom, hidden from view.

He hadn't intended it for Sans.

Originally, Papyrus had asked Undyne to make it for him so he could capture that goddamn Annoying Dog that plagued his life...but he never found a chance to use it.

 

 

He was glad he kept it.

The book had detailed the use of such items. Apparently it was a symbol of ownership, and could be used to display that the one with the collar was taken and not to be tampered with. They belonged to someone else, and all others could be made aware of such.

Picking up the red collar he turned it in his hand with curiosity. He had forgotten just how fine the item was. Undyne had taken great care in the leatherwork (surprisingly). It was trimmed precisely and was quite soft on the edges. A grin tilted the side of his mouth as he ran his thumb over one of the many little nubby spikes along its length. He hadn’t requested them, but he found that he liked that Undyne had taken the liberty of adding them. The studs looked much more intimidating than they actually were.

It really seemed like it suited Sans.

 

 

Eras giggled boisterously from behind him. Papyrus turned to look at the bundle of bones, and cocked his head in amusement. He certainly knew how to entertain himself, what without him not having any toys anyways.

He lay wriggling on the floor, waving his hands and flicking his fingers in quite…bizarre movements. It was like he was doing it intentionally.

What was he laughing at?

Before he could go over to pick the small bundle of bones up, he stopped, confused. The child appeared focused on something on the ceiling, barely taking note of Papyrus. What on earth? He looked up and flinched. He thought he saw a flash of something or other out of the corner of his eye… But there didn’t appear to be anything. Huffing to himself, he mumbled about not getting enough sleep, and continued on.

 

Eras had calmed from his giggles and pouted at him as he crouched beside him on the floor. He looked positively angry, bones rattling and everything. As if he had interrupted him in some way.

Shit he was cute.

“Don’t be like that!” Papyrus chuckled at the frown Eras was giving him, and scooped him up. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

The child huffed at him and grimaced, amusingly similar to Papyrus’ own expression of disdain.

He laughed. He roared at the little shit’s gall. “Nyeh heh heh heh! Oh my god! Sans!” His smile faltered a second, as he remembered Sans had gone to the dump. But it quickly returned as Eras laughed at his funny reaction, and made the huffing sound and pouty expression again. When it earned another chuckle from his father, Eras kept making the face over and over, constantly breaking into a wide grin at the positive attention. Papyrus settled himself, and bounced Eras on his hip. “Nyeh heh, that’s enough grumpiness, I think.”

 

Letting out a breath through his nasal aperture, he brought them both over to the dresser.

 

The collar lay there waiting, its accompanying leash still curled in the drawer. He drew it out, letting it uncoil to the floor. It was just as simple, but of no less quality. Thin, and nearly whip-like in appearance, it had a good heftiness to it. It felt good in his hand.

Setting it aside, he picked up the collar again, and at Eras’ whining and grabbing hands, let him hold it. He turned it about in his hands, cooing at the new and enticing textures.

“Think Sans will like it?” He rubbed his back tenderly, and nuzzled his skull. The act soothing to both him and the child.

Still, his soul gave a nervous titter. Hopefully Sans would like it, anyways. This could either be wonderfully fulfilling or excruciatingly embarrassing.

 

 

He might have given up on the whole thing, but there was one question that would not leave him be. One question that he needed answered or else his soul would continue to ache. Sans said that he loved him...

But was he truly his?

 

After placing Eras down for a nap, who had soon grown tired after all the laughing and playing, Papyrus got his plan ready. And after he got his plan ready, it was time he got dressed into something a bit more appropriate.

 

 


	24. Chapter 24

 

 

Papyrus looked at himself in the mirror.

The skeleton standing before him was very different than the last time he saw him. Slim, strong, and impeccably dressed in his suit, he looked confident once more. Albeit a little roughed up in the skull, but then again he'd always had a scar anyways. It certainly didn’t deter from the fact that the suit fit very well. Matte-black with tastefully subtle red pin striping, it clung to his frame in the most flattering way. Adjusting his black tie and fixing the red shirt he wore beneath, he tried to not feel nervous.

He knew Sans would appreciate him dressing up for him...but he wasn't certain about his gift.

The collar lay on top of his dresser behind him and though it was a simple item, it held a lot of meaning behind it. Just looking at it made his soul shiver.

 

With an exasperated grunt, he decided to quit fidgeting over his attire. Sans would be home soon-

 

The sound of the front door opening and then closing almost made the tightly wound skeleton yelp in surprise.

 

 

 

His knobby knees were practically knocking with how nervous he felt.

Shit he wasn't ready! Was this all too soon? How would Sans react? Would he scare him with his gesture?

He had planned so much for them, what if Sans thought it was all stupid or shitty or what if he didn’t like it or what if he’d read him wrong or-

Papyrus scraped at his ruined socket, the sharp pain snapping him out of his panicked spiral.

 

Taking the collar, he hid it in his jacket. He took a breath, straightened his suit, and fixed his tie.

It was now or never.

 

 

His feet light and silent despite his boots, he made his way down the steps. Even though he had reached the bottom of the stairs, Sans seemed too preoccupied to notice him. He drug an apparently heavy bag full of various items into the living room, and propped it beside the couch. After doing so, Sans flopped onto the couch with a humongous sigh, his sockets drooping tiredly.

 

Maybe this wasn’t the best time for this?

 

He internally cursed himself for overlooking Sans’ potential tiredness. Cheekbones warming from his blunder, he was about to slink back upstairs and go thoroughly restructure his plans, when he heard Sans make a sound of surprise.

“w-woah! heh, w-what’s with the suit, Pap?”

Shit.

Papyrus straightened himself, gracing his features with his signature calm expression. “Special occasion.” He replied simply, as he stalked over to sit next to Sans on the couch. He sniffed out an amused laugh as Sans' wide eyes wandered over him, his cheekbones flushed red. Oh, he loved the suit alright. 

But now it was time for the reason behind the "special occasion".

 

He spoke sternly, drawing Sans out of his thoughts. “Close your eyes.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Sans’ eyes widened and roamed about his brother’s frame as he stood by the steps.

"w-woah!"

Fuck, when did he get a suit? And why the hell hadn’t he worn it before?

"heh, w-what's with the suit, Pap?"

Sans was briefly thankful for the fact that he was sitting because the whole outfit made him feel weak in the knees. It hugged Papyrus' agile frame in all the right ways, leaving both nothing and everything to the imagination. His magic stirred in his bones just looking at the way the suit cinched at his waist, his hip bones sharply accented beneath.

 

The skeleton gave him a smirk, as he waved him off with a simple, "Special occasion."

That reply hardly answered his question, but hell if he cared. His thoughts were just fucking gone as Papyrus sauntered over to the couch. Sans fucking swore he had never seen a sexier creature in his life. His hips swaying and lithe legs stretching in that long, hypnotic gait of his. Sans’ mouth felt dry with his nervousness as Papyrus lighted on the couch beside him. Fuck! He was eyeing him with that intense gaze, and giving him that smug half-smile. And just FUCK! Why the hell was he wearing something so…formal, anyways?! Sans could feel the sweat pouring off his skull, his face must be fucking beat red, god he was so flustered, shit why was Papyrus doing this-

“Close your eyes.”

His eyes snapped shut as if of their own volition. They didn’t even let him make a snide remark. He gulped and weakly stammered out a protest, “wh-why should i?”

Well, fuck, that was _real_ smart. Good job, Sans.

Papyrus chuckled beside him. Sans could practically see the grin on his face through his closed sockets. Papyrus knew how embarrassed he had made him with his fucking sexy suit-

He gasped as he felt the other lean in, magic-warmed breath tickling at his cheek.

“Sans?”

Papyrus was so close; he could smell his scent. Thick layers of musk, blood, and sweat greeted his nasal aperture, making his soul beat with anticipation. “y-yeah? boss?” He tried to control his shakiness, but fuck it was just not going to happen. Not with Papyrus practically leaning on him, watching his every reaction, his breath scorching at his throat.

A clanking kiss was placed to his neck, and Sans welcomed the touch. Groaning softly, he lifted his chin, letting the other lightly scrape his teeth against his vertebrae. Another gasp broke free, as he felt a hand trail up his chest, starting from the bottom of his ribs and stopping at his collar bone. The thin fingers there trailed along his throat, caressing him and seemingly taking in his every detail.

“boss, what are you-?”

Sans started to open his eyes, but Papyrus dug his claws into his collar as he growled, “Keep them closed.” Quickly making him shut them again.

His soul beating in his chest, he couldn’t help the agonized, needy moan that snaked from his teeth as the mouth and hands touched him. They were so light and caressing, drinking him in. Fuck, it was painfully slow, but it made him feel so hot.

 

 

The hands upon him moved, shifting up to grasp his skull, pulling him in close.

“Sans,” A gravelly voice breathed against his teeth, deep and rumbling, and practically dripping with sex. “Tell me. Are you mine?”

“yes.” Sans panted as he grabbed at the skeleton blindly, clenching fistfuls of material. Fuck! God! Shit, he just wished Papyrus would kiss him or fuck him or something-

A hand wrapped itself about his throat, the grip loose, but enticing all the same. A wet appendage swiped at his teeth. When he made to meet the other’s tongue with his own, it vanished.

“No, Sans.”

His brother pressed himself flush to his chest, their ribs pressing and scraping through their clothes. Sans’ breath caught in his throat. He could actually feel the soul within Papyrus’ chest beating furiously strong even beneath all of the layers of clothes. Sans nearly opened his eyes, surprised by how strongly his brother must be feeling. He could feel it shiver and thrum, mingling with his own. Waves of fear and excitement that were not his own met him. The intensity of it ringing in his skull.

He had never known his brother to feel so anxious like this.

Did he feel that way because of him?

“I want you to be mine, Sans.” The hand about his throat left. Something else taking its place with the sound of clinking metal.

 

 

Sans opened his eyes.

While he couldn’t see what held his throat captive, he could see Papyrus.

A nervousness he was not used to seeing was plain on his face. To others it might not have been noticeable, but it screamed at him. From the way his brow pinched ever so slightly, the brief twitch of his ruined socket…he really was a wreck.

 

Sans’ fingers brushed at his throat.

Smooth, yet sturdy material and metal met his fingertips. He gasped. Papyrus watched him all the while, reading him body and soul. Sans felt a shock of excitement through his bones. Now that his senses were more focused, the bitter-sweet smell of leather hit him.

Fuck, he loved that smell.

He ran his fingers along the item, taking in its small, gentle nubs of metal…studs? And in the front, a metal ring of sorts.

 

 

Oh, he knew what this was.

And he loved it. Though he didn’t say it, he probably looked it.

And by the looks of Papyrus, he knew he loved it. The previous fear was gone. He could tell by the way his mouth twitched at the right corner, a smile that he was trying desperately to hide. He could see the delight on his skull, the way his eye took in his visage with a hungry glint in its depths.

Papyrus leaned in and slipped a finger through the ring, and with a tug to his collar, brought him in to a kiss. Practically devouring his tongue with his own, he ravaged him. Sans gripped tightly onto his suit, trying to pull him down onto the couch. He moaned into his mouth before he whined as Papyrus pulled away.

“w-what? boss, what the fuck?”

Long tongue licking at his sharp teeth, he grinned down at Sans, and released his hold on his collar. “Later. We have reservations.”

 

 

Before Sans could ask what the fuck he meant by “reservations” Papyrus got up from the couch, and went upstairs.

 

 

Sans was left to sit there flustered and majorly turned on, his pelvis blazing underneath his shorts. God fucking damnit, why did Papyrus have to be such an ass? What the hell could he possibly be doing?

 

 

Papyrus soon returned from their room, a grin stretching across his skull at his audience of one. Sans swore Papyrus put more of a swish to his step as he sashayed down the stairs, his hand trailed along the banister as he descended, the sound a light scrape. It sounded so much like bone upon bone. The smaller skeleton swallowed hard, unable to take his eyes off of him.

F-fuck.

Taking his place beside him once more, he crossed a leg over his knee, and folded his hands in his lap. Acting as if nothing were out of the ordinary, Papyrus began to speak. “Eras is in bed. He’s pretty tuckered out.” He smoothed a hand over his pant leg, fixing an invisible blemish in his attire. “The librarian will be arriving shortly to look after him while we are out.”

Sans blinked, and shook his head. “huh?”

The steely eye glinted in amusement at his confused stare. “We are going out, Sans. I have made us reservations.”

“huh?!” He swore he had gone mad. What? What the fuck was going on here?! Was he dreaming? Going out? Going out WHERE? Why?! What kind of going out? Out-out? As in _date_ type out?!

 

Papyrus chuckled at his expense, and placed a finger under his chin. “Don’t look at me like that.” The hand moved lower and grasped at his collar roughly, his gaze intensifying. “I said you were deserving of more credit, didn’t I? Try to not look so surprised.”

Sans practically melted into the tender, clanking kiss his brother placed upon his teeth.

A hand wrapped about his skull, and he allowed himself to be drawn in deeper into the kiss. His breath came harshly, his soul blazing in his ribcage. “Pap…”

 

 

A knocking interrupted them.

Papyrus was quick to jump up from the couch, causing Sans to fall forward from the sudden loss of support. “fuck!” He caught himself, but just barely, nearly sliding off the couch onto the floor.

As he righted himself and peered up over the couch, he saw Papyrus invite the librarian doctor inside.

The bizarrely kind monster waved at Sans when he saw him, and then turned back to a conversation he was having with Papyrus.

“We will not be gone more than an hour and a half.” He stated matter-of-factly as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Eras is asleep upstairs in his crib. Here is the walkie-talke,” The librarian nearly dropped the device as Papyrus shoved it to him. “It will help you listen for him. He should not cause you any trouble.” He gestured to the television. “Feel free to watch at your leisure. You know where the kitchen is, correct?”

As the librarian nodded in affirmation, the skeleton continued.

“You are welcome to any food or drink. I will pay you as soon as we get back.”

 

The librarian seemed a little dazed by Papyrus’ swift and militant instruction, and nodded quickly to appease him.

Papyrus seemed a bit skeptical, but he sighed and soon eased into a more relaxed stance. “You’ve helped us before, and I am indebted to you…twice now. I hope that I can repay you in kind.”

“There’s no need to feel like you owe me! It’s part of my job.” The monster stammered, pushing his glasses up his nose. “W-well, it _was_ part of my job, anyways. Besides! I’m just happy to finally meet someone who likes puzzles!”

The taller skeleton stiffened and flashed a glare to Sans.

He shrugged sheepishly and grinned.

“…yes. I do like puzzles.” He admitted lamely, and was promptly startled by the librarian-doctor’s enthusiasm.

“Oh! Wonderful! One of my passions is making crossword puzzles, but no one is ever willing to try them out!”

“Uh, huh…” Papyrus shot Sans another death-glare before he smiled sweetly to the energetic creature. “Well, I will…certainly have to give them a shot.” He quickly broke himself off from the conversation, retreating over to the couch quickly. “We must be going.”

“Oh! Of course.” The monster nodded in understanding, and made his way over to the stack of books that he had left a few days ago on the table beside the door.

 

 

Casting a quick glance to the preoccupied babysitter, Papyrus reached inside his jacket. Sans felt his soul leap into his throat as he brought out a long, thin length of leather from a side pocket. A leash, a perfect match to his collar.

The larger skeleton held his gaze as he leaned forward and clicked it on to him.

He tugged on the leash to bring Sans in close and with a dark chuckle, he whispered against his cheek.

“Come, Sans. We don't want to be late.”

 

 


	25. Chapter 25

 

 

Sans followed behind Papyrus, the leash linking them together as they walked.

He had been a little embarrassed leaving the house at first, and in fact he still was, but Papyrus was so confident. His stride unhindered by potentially prying eyes, his gait long and gracious, his boots crunching in the snow without pause.

Sans’ soul beat loudly against his ribs, the pulse seeming to pool into a beat in his throat. His eyes darted about, though he knew no one really occupied this part of town at this time of evening. Most monsters, weaker monsters, were holed up for the night, afraid to be caught up by the stronger ones.

Papyrus had no reason to hold a curfew.

He was strong.

He was powerful.

No one would mess with him.

The weaker skeleton followed him closely, excitement sparking through his bones at being out so late. He never dared to be out like this, unless he had a shortcut ready or if he was at Grillby’s. Being able to just walk around like this, without needing to watch his back was something else.

 

 

He grinned toothily to himself.

Papyrus lead him, the leash in his grasp tugging him along, causing it to swish and its metal clasp to clink against his collar. Heh heh. _His_ collar. His smile widened further in his delight, making his mouth hurt. He still couldn’t believe Papyrus had got him one. After a quick glance up to check that Papyrus wasn’t watching him, he reached up and ran his fingers against it. The touch sent sparks of excitement through his fingertips.

His collar.

Chuckling to himself, he put his hand back into his hoodie pocket. He should be mortified and absolutely humiliated. Being dragged around like a dog. Like a piece of property.

 

Not a chance.

 

Especially not with such a nice vantage point.

His soul hummed pleasantly at the well-dressed skeleton. Thin, long legs swished and strutted confidently ahead. Wide shoulders rolled in his unique predatorial gait. Sexy as fuck, sharply accented hips swaying in the most hypnotic and delicious way.

Hell no. He was perfectly fine to follow along behind.

 

While he could stare after his lover all day, he kind of wanted to know what he had planned. After clearing his throat to gain his audience, he ventured, “so, where are we going, boss?”

Papyrus did not even look back at him as he called over his shoulder. “I’ve told you already. We are going out.”

Sans gave a harsh laugh, and snarked, “heh! c’mon, boss! just tell me what the fuck your doin-” He choked as he was yanked forward by the leash in Papyrus’ hand, making him stumble forward a few steps. “the fuck, Pap?!”

“Shut the fuck up, Sans. Don’t be rude to someone who’s treating you.”

His previous anger melted away into a soulful rush of arousal as Papyrus shot him a grin and a knowing glance over his shoulder.

F-FFFUUUUCK!

Sans was sick. Yeah, he knew that. Fuck’s sake how goddamn long had he lusted after Papyrus? Since his first heat? God, there was just something about him that made him just go nuts. That steely eye… Gah! He wished they didn’t have to go out. He would be more than satisfied if they went home and just fucked each other’s brains out. Groaning to himself, he tried to ignore his sinful thoughts.

 

 

His attention was brought back into embarrassingly vivid focus as Papyrus turned and led them down to the river’s edge, the River Person waiting patiently in their boat.

“wait, uh, Pap?” Sans tried to halt, but Papyrus either didn’t hear him, or didn’t care. Probably the latter.

Papyrus stopped only to pay the River Person and request passage to Hotland. Hotland? What the fuck were they going to fucking Hotland for?

The River Person’s cloaked face turned to him, their empty gaze making him feel nervous. Papyrus gave him a light tug, and Sans quickly followed suit, scampering into the boat and taking his place at Papyrus’ side. They were off, the River Person tittering out their usual odd tune, “ _Tra La La._ And Rinky, dinky. Some folks sure are kinky.”

Ignoring the insane hermit’s comment, he instead turned to look at Papyrus.

Now that Sans was sitting next to him, he could see that his brother was…nervous? No one but him could probably tell, but the way his ruined socket gave a tiny twinge cried out to him. He looked down to notice that his phalanges were gently toying with the leash’s handle upon his lap, he had the same bad habit of wringing his hands as Sans sometimes.

Why was he so nervous?

 

 

They came to a stop at Hotland. As they got off the boat, the River Person jingled to themselves. “ _Tra La La._ Try not to fall down.”

Papyrus glared at the cloaked figure, and gave a final huff before turning to leave. “I fucking hate that guy. He’s creepy as hell.”

“heh heh. says the guy holding a leash.” Sans grinned up at him playfully.

Papyrus’ mouth twitched upwards into an evil grin. He yanked on the leash, making Sans fall forwards into his chest.

Before Sans could react, a hand gripped him about his lower back, the other pulling tightly on the leash. He coughed out a panting breath as he was forced to look up at the taller skeleton. His red eyes grew wide from the intense look Papyrus gave him as he chuckled darkly. His mouth hovered teasingly close, his hot breath hitting his teeth. “And you love it, don’t you?” He purred.

So stunned by the bold move, he could not form words. No jokes, no puns, his wit was gone as he held that steely eye’s stare.

Smiling down at him, Papyrus released him suddenly, letting him fall back onto his heels. “We can talk over dinner.” Another yank to his leash, and they were off again.

 

 

Dinner? This _was_ a date! What the fuck? Why the hell would he-?

Sans blushed furiously, and his hands made to grab at the nape of his hood, but instead came into contact with the collar. This whole thing was…surprising. Needing tactile comfort, he gripped his collar, and toyed with the studs and seams of the item. This…this was something much bigger than just dinner, wasn’t it?

 

He had kind of thought something was a bit off about Papyrus.

 

The nervousness, the suit, taking him out to dinner, and the collar…there was definitely something more to this.

Papyrus didn’t just do shit on a whim. He was a planner. He always had everything all laid out.

He allowed his body to be pulled along unconsciously as his mind wandered. Thinking back on what all had occurred. He had been so absorbed by all the excitement, he probably missed something.

 

_I want you to be mine, Sans._

 

It was like someone had broken a glass. His previous mood shattered into a thousand pieces. Oh, fuck. Oh, shit. Oh, hell. Did that mean what he thought it meant?

He refocused on Papyrus, his soul thumping in his chest with enough force that he swore Papyrus would be able to hear its roar. Did…did he really mean it like _that_? Oh, shit. Oh, god. Sans gripped onto his collar tightly, his face burning.

 

 

Papyrus wanted him to be his?

That couldn’t possibly mean what he was thinking. He chuckled to himself. God, he was really fucked up. Why was he thinking this way? Heh, no, this was just some kinky fun. Yeah…

 

 

Sans blinked in surprise at the large structure that suddenly stood before them, lights dramatically displaying the tall tower. MTT Resort? Huh. For being the middle of Hotland, it really was a stark and overly exorbitant thing.

He had never been here before. Not exactly the most welcome of joints for weaker monsters. In fact, unless you had a death wish, you stayed the hell away if you couldn’t handle yourself. The owner of the resort, Mettaton, had a habit of using those stupid enough to get too close to his pristine establishment on his show. After all, he prized himself on his program having, “ _REAL DRAMA!! REAL ACTION!! REAL BLOODSHED!!_ ”

Yeah, no, he had never even tried coming here.

 

 

 

Papyrus lead them inside without a blink of an eye, straight through the sliding doors. His heels clicked as they met the impeccably waxed floor, echoing too loudly in the silent resort. Sans stiffened in alarm as he saw larger, stronger monsters hanging about here and there in the lobby. They turned to look at them, sizing them up.

 

His brother came to a stop, nearly making Sans run into the back of him. 

 

A lone monster had shifted into a stand. A grotesque hand made up its face, its sharp and jagged nails clicked against one another in the most unnerving of ways. And though it lacked eyes, Sans could feel its intense gaze upon him. It growled low in its throat, splaying out its fingers in a gnarled claw as it took a step towards them.

 

Sans shuffled closer to Papyrus. He didn’t even want to think about what that creature wanted to do with him. He gripped onto his brother’s arm, his anxiety hitting him hard. His eyes darted around the resort. While the other monsters made no move to join in, they still watched from the sidelines, their intentions unclear. And they were surrounded. There was only one escape. They couldn’t possibly run to the riverboat in time. Sweat pouring from his brow, images from one of Mettaton’s latest shows made his marrow churn.

 

 

 

Sans yelped in surprise as the arm he clung to suddenly wrapped itself around his frame and pulled him in close. Papyrus remained calm, his face a mask. Though he remained stoic, his voice seethed venom, “Get the hell back, fuckwad. He’s _mine_.” The smaller skeleton looked up in shock and awe at the comment, but Papyrus did not meet him. His eye fixing the hand-creature with his deadly stare. The skeleton’s other hand lit with red magic, his fingers twitching in warning. “Get. Back.”

The hand monster’s fingers curled and uncurled in a fist, contemplating.

 

They stood silent, neither wanting to be the first to make a move. 

 

Finally, the hand monster withdrew themselves, and returned back to their desk.

 

 

 

Sans sighed in relief, leaning into Papyrus in exhaustion from the terrifying stand-off. The arm about him tightened momentarily, before he felt it begin to pull away. Not ready to give up his hold on his brother, he clung to Papyrus’ sleeve as he began to walk once more. 

He looked up at Papyrus, trying to read him. Trying to puzzle out the slew of recent events, comments, and behaviors. There was something more to all of this, he could feel it in the depths of his soul.

 

One hand holding onto his sleeve, he raised his other to touch at the collar about his neck. 

_I want you to be mine, Sans._

 

 


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BITCH, YES. I LOVE THIS CHAPTER LIKE NOBODY'S BUSINESS.
> 
> Also, take a look at these adorable fanarts! (they're so innocent and sweet compared to this chapter its fucking hilarious)  
> [Cuddlefell brothers](http://voidworthytrash.tumblr.com/post/141603104103/i-swear-sans-if-you-ever-say-a-single-word-about) by [voidworthytrash](http://voidworthytrash.tumblr.com/)  
> And  
> [Papa-Pyrus](http://yupimgross.tumblr.com/post/142372933211/edgy-skeleton-i-dont-even-know-how-to-hands) by [edgy-skeleton](http://edgy-skeleton.tumblr.com/)

 

 

They walked a short while longer, finally coming to what appeared to be a fairly nice restaurant. 

Papyrus spoke to the monster running the host station, and after a brief conversation, they were lead inside. 

 

Sans was surprised at how many monsters were here. They crowded around the tables, packing the place out. He even saw some of Grillby’s old regulars. Heh, with Grillbz gone guess they needed somewhere else to get their booze. Some of the monsters looked at them with mild curiosity, but upon seeing Papyrus they were quick to look away. 

 

They didn’t even stare at Sans. Not even the surely enraged partons of the late Grillby’s. Monsters took one look at him with Papyrus and they quickly averted Sans’ gaze away. A lot of them actually looked a little nervous from him looking at them. 

 

It was a bit intoxicating.

 

 

 

They were brought to a table off to the side, given privacy after Papyrus’ suggestion (or rather his demand). 

Huh, this was really nice. A small table for two, covered in a dark cloth. The flickering light of a stout candle set the mood. It made him feel a bit nervous and, well, a bit underdressed. Not to mention the fact that he had been brought here on a leash.

A smile tugged at his teeth. He felt like a dirty little stain on the pristine establishment. Obliterating the sickeningly romantic vibe with his boorish presence.

 

Though, he supposed Papyrus fit right in here.

The rich atmosphere blended nicely with his impeccable attire, his confident gaze, and his holier-than-thou attitude. Sans did smile at that.

Such a fucking diva.

He wouldn’t want him to be anything else though. The other skeleton looked good here, surrounded by lavish desires. Papyrus made to take his seat.

Grinning wide, Sans raced forward and pulled his seat out for him. “here, boss, allow me.” Such a fine monster shouldn’t seat himself, should he?

 

The look of utter shock and flustered embarrassment that shattered his mask was SO worth it. Papyrus toyed with the leash in his hands for merely a second, and then quickly regained himself. He sat and allowed Sans to scoot him to the table. 

 

Sans brushed his fingers across his shoulder, just enough to make him jump at the touch. His brother eyed him before Sans made his way to the chair across from him and took his seat. 

Papyrus watched him the whole time, though he had built up his mask once more, a glint of confused curiosity still lingered in his eye. “That was…rather polite of you, Sans.”

“heh, didn’t want you to _hound_ me for being rude.” He tugged at his collar, wiggling his brows at his brother.

 

Maybe it was Papyrus’ nerves that had gotten to him…

Maybe it was the atmosphere…

Maybe Pap’d been knocked a few too many times in the head…

 

Whatever it was, there was no denying the crooked grin that broke across his brother's skull as a snort escaped from his nasal aperture.

Which quickly devolved into a laugh.

“Nyeh heh heh!” A bony hand flew to his mouth, trying to stifle the sound, but it was hopeless. “Sans, that was god awful!”

Sans smiled. He really fucking smiled. Papyrus had actually laughed at his joke. “heh heh, don’t _dog_ me for my jokes, Pap!”

The rough skeleton covered his face with his hand, desperately trying to keep himself together. His hand tugged lightly on his leash as he laughed, still trying to hold up his seriousness, but failing to do so at the moment. “Shut up, you ass! Nyeh heh!”

Sans smiled until his cheekbones ached. Never having heard Papyrus laugh so hard. He seemed so much looser, so unguarded. He felt like he was getting a rare look at the real him. The one that had been pushed down and forced away. Sans felt his cheekbones grow warm. He liked seeing Papyrus like this.

 

Papyrus calmed, settling into a pleased grin. He tapped his fingers against his teeth in contemplation as he looked Sans over, toying with the leash in his other. He chuckled to himself, and began to say something, when he snapped his mouth shut with a thoughtful look to his hand holding the leash.

Sans felt his soul race in his chest. What was it he wanted to say?

Pulling himself together, and seemingly gaining his resolve, he cleared his throat and held Sans’ questioning gaze. “Sans…I, well…I was thinking…“

His phalanges gripped at his chair, his breath catching in his throat. What? What was he thinking? What was all of this for? Why the suit? Why the date?

 

Why was he so nervous?  

 

 

As fate would have it, he would have to wait a bit longer to find out.

 

A large fish-like monster came burbling over to them, looking too damn chipper for his own good. He smiled largely to Papyrus and quickly stammered, “Hello, sir!” Then, after eyeing Sans with a hint of amusement, he added, “And company.” 

 

Sans bristled, but did not get a chance to spit out a nasty comment as Papyrus tugged on his leash. “Nyeh heh heh. Down, Sans.”

 

Sans growled at the indignity and crossed his arms over his chest, but did not say anything more.

 

The fish monster stiffened from their interaction and, blushing, fidgeted with his notepad before speaking. “W-what can I get you…ah, gentlemen…to drink?”

 

Papyrus cleared his throat, and both monsters turned to him. “I think I will have a glass of wine. I’m sure you know what it is I like by now.” As the waiter stammered out something or other, Papyrus trained his eye upon Sans before he added, “And for him…a bottle of mustard.”

The smaller skeleton swallowed hard. 

This was a test.

 

 

 

While he had said he hated the shit, and he did…it was a bit hard to not miss it. Especially with how nervous he was right now. The excitement from all that had just happened, the confusion and fear he felt about Papyrus’ plans, and the overall mild tension of this very exact moment were making a drink look pretty damn fine. It was easy to remember the calm dulling feeling his favored vice had. Even as Papyrus had said the name, he could taste it on his tongue. 

 

The waiter, oblivious to the dilemma that was unfolding before him, wrote down the order and began to walk away.

 

 

 

“w-wait!” 

 

He had yelled that a little louder than he meant to. The whole fucking restaurant turned to look at him in his outburst. Blushing from the sudden attention, he tried to hold his nerve. Fuck that drink sounded good right now.

 

The waiter looked at him expectantly, awaiting his request.

 

Sans’ hand flew up to grip at his collar, both because it suddenly felt tight about his throat, and because it brought him a certain comfort. He stammered, “i-i changed my mind!” His thumb brushed along the collar, taking in the nubs of metal. He took a deep breath and finished what he’d started. “i’ll have water, instead.”

 

Blinking at the odd amount of drama the drink change had caused, the waiter shrugged and smiled. “Certainly! I’ll be back in a moment with your drinks!”

 

 

 

Sagging into his seat, he let out a huge sigh.

Fuck that’d been hard.

 

 

A nudge against his foot made him look up.

Papyrus sat with his hands steepled in front of his mouth, his eye fixated on him in the most burning and piercing way. It was unnerving.

 

The nudge on his foot happened again. Sans shifted himself, trying to give Papyrus more room. He had longer legs than him, it was easy for him to get cramped-

 

The nudge became more purposeful, the tip of Papyrus’ boot trailing from the inside of his ankle to his calf. Sans stiffened in surprise. “Pap-?”

 

Papyrus removed the hands from in front of his mouth to reveal the devilish grin that he had hidden from him. The hand that held his leash took away from him his previous slack, making Sans need to scoot further into the table. He scooted until its edge pressed into his ribcage in his struggle to keep the collar from choking him. Coughing, he growled, “Pap, what the hell-?”

Papyrus raised a single finger to his mouth, hushing him with the simple gesture.

Sans’ soul picked up its pace as he felt the boot travel upwards, more easily able to reach up further, and further…

 

 

The waiter returned with their drinks, and placed them in front of them accordingly. He opened his notepad, “What will you be having to eat this evening?”

 

“Do you have any specials?” Papyrus asked innocently, though Sans caught the sidelong, knowing glance and the slight curl to the one side of his mouth.

 

What was he planning on-

 

 

Sans gripped the tablecloth a little roughly, making the silverware laid out on its dark cloth clink together. Sweat beaded heavily on his brow as the teasing boot caressed the insides of his thighs.

 

The waiter looked at Sans in alarm. “Are you alright, sir?”

 

“Yes, is something bothering you, Sans?” Papyrus, that motherfucking asshole that he was, asked, watching him with that fucking calculative gaze and shit-eating grin.

 

Pulling himself together, he smiled as best he could to the waiter. “y-yeah, sorry! i didn’t mean to _get off on the wrong foot_. heh heh heh!” He laughed and shot a glare to Papyrus.

 

Oh, he shouldn’t have done that.

 

The boot wedged itself in the crook of his pelvis, shifting and grinding the sole against the sensitive bone. Sans’ eyes went wide and he gagged in his attempt to keep back a cry.

 

“S-sir?! Do you need something?” The oblivious waiter looked horrified, afraid he might have to clean up some kind of illness-induced mess.

 

He spoke through gritted teeth, fucking burning with embarrassment and anger as he fixed Papyrus with a stare. “n-no. i just really want some food! sound good, Papyrus? w-why don’t you order for us?”

 

To his relief, Papyrus took over. “My companion is fine. He gets cranky when he’s hungry.” The boot pressed into his pelvis, and Sans slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle an outburst. Luckily, the waiter was busy writing down the food Papyrus ordered for them, and didn’t notice Sans’ slip.

Finally. FUCKING FINALLY, the waiter left to go put in their orders, looking just as relieved as Sans to be away from them.

 

 

 

He glared at Papyrus, and tried to push the boot away. But that only made Papyrus tsk at him, and waggle a finger in mock disappointment. The boot pulled back a little and then pressed right back, supplying a small kick. Sans grit his teeth, hissed, and clenched his fists. "ffff-" He quickly brought up his shirt collar and gave a muffled cry into his jacket. 

 

God he was a fucking d-dick...

 

The boot began to rub him, teasingly gentle, the hard flat sole making a surprisingly good source of friction. Sans felt his soul and magic start to react more prominently to the change. He gasped as he looked down to see the red light beneath his shorts. Suddenly thankful for the long, dark tablecloth, he covered his lap with it. Papyrus’ boot ground into his pelvis, and with Sans being distracted with trying to hide himself, he loosed a small moan. “a-ah…” Sans bit down on his hand to keep from slipping again as he felt his magic begin to form. "nnn, P-Papyrus! b-boss, quit it!"

 

"Nyeh heh. Why? You're enjoying this, aren't you, freak?"

 

Sans huffed and looked up at Papyrus.

 

Fuck, he looked so smug. But he also looked positively flustered. His cheekbones awash with a light red blush, he sipped blamelessly from his dark drink. Taking the glass from his teeth, he toyed with it, swirling it in his palm as his steely red eye held him with a glazed interest. Sans thought he heard a whisper of a groan sneak past his teeth, though he couldn't really be bothered to think on it. The boot explored the bulge that had formed in his shorts, and Sans fought to keep from crying out or being too loud.

 

He shot a look to the other restaurant patrons. God, he hoped they weren't caught. 

 

"sh-shit..." He whispered. Fuck, he was actually getting off from this, goddamnit. Right here. In public. Oh, god...hell...he was getting close. Seriously?! Shit! Shit! Shi-

 

"Here we are!" 

 

 

 

Sans almost screamed as the waiter snuck up from behind him and set their meals onto the table. Sans cast a deadly glare to his brother, who only grinned wider.

He released a huge sigh of relief as the waiter turned to leave.

 

 

"Have you worked here long?"

 

 

He silently screamed, his stare burning into Papyrus as he called the waiter back to the table with the question.

 

And the boot kept fucking going.

 

Shit.

 

Sans grit his teeth, trying to hold back. Goddamnit he was NOT going to cum in front of THE GODDAMN WAITER.

 

"Oh, uh, yes!" The monster actually looked surprised at Papyrus' desire to converse. "Actually, today marks my five-year anniversary here." 

 

Papyrus cast a look of exaggerated surprise and interest to Sans. "Five years! Well, that's really something, isn't it, Sans?" Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. He was doing this on purpose. FUCK HIM.

 

Shit!

 

"y-yeah...ah! b-boss!" He stammered and nearly lost it as the tip of the boot found the head of his cock.

 

Too preoccupied by his thoughts, the waiter did not notice Sans' choked response. "Haha, yeah, it's something..." He trailed off, looking a bit disgruntled by the fact.

 

"Oh, don't be like that. You seem to be adept at service." Papyrus chuckled good naturedly, his foot pressing harder into his member. God, it ran slowly up and down his length, the tip bobbing and rubbing against his shorts. Oh, shit. Oh, god. Shit he was grinding against his head. Oh shit. Oh shit.

 

Sans was going to burst. Oh g-god, why did Papyrus have to be such a goddamn-

The boot pressed hard, rubbing him with sudden greater force. Shit! He gasped and bit his tongue as he came, right in front of the fucking waiter. 

 

Who was now looking at him.

 

 

 

"Are you ok?"

 

 

Papyrus was so _goddamn smug._

 

Fuck he wanted to punch him. Goddamnit he wanted to fucking just...just.. _fuck_ him. 

What the hell was wrong with Sans?!

 

Waving a hand dismissively, Papyrus brought the waiter's attention back to him. "He's fine. Ignore him. I don't think there is anything further we require, you may leave us."

 

The waiter took one last curious glance at Sans, and then left in a hurry.

 

 

 

As soon as he was gone, Sans went ape-shit on Papyrus. "what the hell was _that_?! what the fuck did you do that for?!"

 

Papyrus took a drink and then laughed. "Nyeh heh heh." Leaning over the table, he tugged Sans forward with the leash, and met him in the middle with a clanking kiss. He broke away, and after a quick glance to his teeth, leaned back in for another. Licking at his teeth, he demanded his mouth.

Still angry, Sans denied him.

As if it were that easy to keep Papyrus from what he wanted. Growling, Papyrus gripped his collar and yanked roughly, making Sans gasp. Papyrus attacked him with his tongue, his soft groan loosening Sans up a little.

Sans kissed him back angrily, tasting the bitter wine on his tongue, and feeling the beat of his excited soul just an arms-length away. He melted into the kiss, moving further into the table as he tried to deepen their embrace. Screw everyone else here. He just wanted to fuck Papyrus right fucking here on the goddamn table. “hah…Pap…” He sighed into his mouth, gripping the length of leash tight.

 

Papyrus broke away too soon, swiping his tongue across Sans' teeth in a final tease, and then returned to his seat. "You know you could have stopped me at any time, Sans...” He chuckled breathily at Sans’ expense. “All it would have taken was a single word."

 

 

Flustered, angry, and now fucking turned on again, he said nothing.

 

Yeah, he could've used the safeword.

 

He definitely wouldn't have though.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! *fanning self* That was more fun to write than it should have any right to be!


	27. Chapter 27

 

 

Sans sat smoldering in his seat, angry and utterly helpless in his desire. 

 

Papyrus was having a hard time biting back the smile that tugged incessantly at his mouth.

 

The way Sans watched after him, curious and slightly nervous…touching at his collar constantly, as if trying to make sure it was still there…it made his soul shiver. 

This was going so well! Sans loved it. And he loved his little “stunt” as he knew he would. He smiled into his glass. He had quite enjoyed it too. Thank idiotic younger him for finding that book. That had been one of the most exciting things they had done! 

He shifted in his seat, smoothing the napkin on his lap over to hide the red glow there. The magic that buzzed in his pelvis was uncomfortable, yes, but he wasn’t going to ruin the night by divulging in his own wants.

 

Sipping the last of his bitter drink, he grumbled contently. He didn’t drink often, but tonight was special. Enough to give him a heated edge, but too little to cloud his judgement. By the time they got home he would be sober. But for now…

His soul burned in his chest as Sans checked to make sure his cum-soaked lap still remained covered by the tablecloth. Trying to hide what Papyrus had done to him.

His embarrassment was palpable.

The taste of his drink sparked on his tongue. Fuck, he wanted to just throw Sans over the goddamn table and take him right here in front of everyone…but, well, that would be a bit _too_ much wouldn’t it? Sans would not be pleased with him. And he was quite certain once the effects of the drink wore off he wouldn’t be pleased either.

 

 

Oh well. He’d get his chance later.

Ignoring the magic, he turned to the food in front of him. He was not particularly hungry, but he supposed he would set an example for Sans to follow suit and eat his own food.

It was garbage, but it was better garbage than what Grillby had served. Papyrus sniffed to himself. Frankly, Sans had done the world a favor by taking that piece of shit out.

They ate their food in relative silence, the air was bizarrely awkward, and Papyrus began to doubt himself. Maybe he had misread him? Maybe he really was mad at him? What if Sans didn’t like all that he had planned?

Barely tasting his food, he gave up eating halfway through, and noticed that Sans was the same way. He watched him, red eyes large and full of…something.

He couldn’t read him. He couldn’t tell what Sans was feeling.

Oh, no… Had he fucked up that bad?

 

“boss?”

Too quickly, too desperately he answered, “Yes?” Shit. He was losing his control. His soul was a beating mess, and the fact that he’d had a bit to drink was not making this tricky situation any easier.

“i was just wondering…what’s this all about?” Sans rolled his eyes pointedly from the dinner, to the overall restaurant in general before he looked at him expectantly, nervously.

Papyrus felt his soul beat harder in his chest as Sans touched his collar, seeking its comfort in his anxiety. Papyrus himself felt his nerves flare up at the question, suddenly unsure of himself.

His tongue felt dead in his mouth as he tried to think of what he wanted to say. Tried to form what he had tried to say earlier.

 

Why was this so hard?

 

 

He loved Sans. He loved him deeply and truly. He didn’t want him to be anyone else’s. He wanted Sans all to himself. Just the thought of him being with someone else, it hurt him. Just the thought of going on without Sans made him sick down to the deepest recess of his soul.

 

How do you even say such things? Was it even possible? How do you tell someone that they make you weak in the most wonderful of ways? How do you tell someone that they make you stronger with their mere presence? How do you explain that you need them and crave them in such a way?

What words could possibly reflect these twisted and poisonous desires?

Oh, why must everything be so difficult?

 

 

“b-boss?” Sans brought him out of his spiraling thoughts, looking quite worried at his muteness.

 

His soul thumped painfully in his chest, there was that weakness again. There was that terrible strain that made him ache. He was floundering! He was losing control! This was all going to shit! Fix it! _Fix it!_

 

Frowning at the small skeleton, he tugged on the leash. “I said you were deserving of more credit, whelp.” So much more credit. Sans had proved himself to be a strong fighter, a trustworthy partner, and a loving father. “Be thankful for once, you lazy ass!” Papyrus was more than thankful for his change of soul. He had become everything he wanted him to be, everything he knew him to be in his heart of hearts. Witty, intelligent, funny, curious, caring, strong, and loving. This was who he had found love in so long ago. Who would ultimately be his ruin: body, mind, and soul.

 

 

“oh... thanks…boss.”

His thoughts were interrupted by Sans’ reaction. The way Sans slouched in his chair, the way he looked off into the distance, he looked…disappointed?

What did Sans want from him? What should he say? He hadn’t done anything different, well, other than dinner and the collar. He was really trying to make this a good night for him. He thought Sans would like all of this. He seemed so happy just a bit ago…

Lord help him, Papyrus just didn’t know anymore.

 

 

He needed to treat his partner right. That’s what the whole point of this was. This was all for Sans. If Sans wasn’t enjoying himself then he needed to fix whatever it was he had fucked up. And the best thing he could try to do for him is stick to schedule. Speaking of which…

 

The both of them were finished eating, and Sans looked more than ready to leave. His skull pouring with nervous sweat, his eyes darting about.

 

The corners of Papyrus’ mouth tugged in an evil grin.

Oh, this was going to be fun!

Sans would snap out of it soon enough. Surely!

Surely…

 

 

Thankfully, the waiter came over and took their plates. Papyrus was quick to place coins on the table, enough to cover their bill and a more than generous tip. He considered it compensation enough for having to go through their odd behaviors.

He gave Sans a seductive grin, and tugged on the leash.

 

For a second, Sans did not move, he looked up at Papyrus with uncertainty before he got up from his chair.

He let his eye roam to the smaller skeleton’s shorts pointedly, a smirk curving a corner of his mouth in amusement. “What a mess you’ve made of yourself, Sans.”

To his delight, Sans did snap out of his previous mood. He perked up in sudden embarrassment, and quickly shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, hunching a bit to try and hide his lap. 

 

A shudder went up his spine, and Papyrus hid his smile as he turned on his heel and led them home.

 

 

Monsters avoided them like the plague, particularly worried by the fact that Papyrus was powerful enough to keep such tight control over another creature. Sans was his, and anyone that wasn’t blind could clearly see that. This ownership was a status symbol. He was strong, he could hold his own, he could protect what was his. The collar about Sans’ throat was a very clear warning to not touch him. And that if anyone did _there would be consequences_.

Tugging a bit on the leash, he made sure Sans kept up. Papyrus felt absolutely amazing and he could only hope Sans felt a fraction of his excitement.

 

 

They arrived at the River Person’s boat, and Papyrus paid for their trip.

He sat in the boat, and when Sans made to join him on the spot beside him, he got a lovely idea. Yanking on the leash, Sans stumbled forward with a cry. Before the shithead could say a word, he pulled him into his lap and wrapped his arms about his middle. “Comfy?” He purred against the back of his skull, loving the way Sans stiffened on his lap in shocked surprise.

“uh…y-yeah, boss.”

 

“ _Tra La La._ Get a fucking room.”

Papyrus shot the hooded figure a glare, but the look held little to no effect on the creature. He shivered. God, he hated this guy. The boat took off, and he turned his attention back to the rigid skeleton in his lap.

Sans was so nervous. Did he really feel so worried because of him? How adorable.

 

He chuckled and brought a hand up to caress his cheek. To his delight, Sans sighed from his touch and leaned ever-so-subtly into his hand. Papyrus craned his head down to rest at the back of his skull, feeling the other shiver as his breath lighted across his vertebrae. Moving his hand from his cheek to his jaw, he traced the bottom of his mouth with his thumb. Sans shifted in his lap, his hands moving to grasp at him, apparently not caring to hide himself anymore. Papyrus ran two digits against his teeth, and hummed contently when they parted for him. Pressing his fingers into his mouth, Sans relaxed back against his chest. His hot, wet tongue toying with his phalanges obediently. The ribs against his own rose and fell with fast, cautious breaths, trying to not be too loud. Papyrus nibbled gently at his neck as he continued to shove his fingers into the others mouth.

Oh, this was rich. Sans was a mess on his lap, his soul thumping loudly in his chest, unable to control himself as Papyrus teased him mercilessly.

Grinning wide, Papyrus took Sans' collar in his teeth and tugged playfully, earning him a quiet groan around his digits. 

He was so going to enjoy hearing more of that later. Ah, but for now…

Begrudgingly, he removed his fingers from his mouth and straightened himself out. They were here.

 

 

The boat came to a stop at Snowdin and Papyrus stood up quickly, purposefully letting Sans slip off him with a shocked and slightly angry growl.

Papyrus really didn’t pay any mind to his belly-aching. He’d forget all about any slights or slips of the night here soon.

“ _Tra La La._ I hate my job.”

Papyrus huffed at the parting comment and pressed onwards.

 

 

They weren’t far from home.

His soul lifted in his chest. While he was happy to do all of this for Sans, he had to admit that he felt awful for leaving Eras home. He swallowed hard, trying to not let his nerves get the better of him. He had thought this would be a good idea to do for Sans, considering they had never gone out before and they were now parents and all. It had only seemed…right? Normal? Hm, he wasn’t quite sure. The only thing he had to go off of what “normal” families were like were old memories of human books he’d read from the dump.

As far as he knew, families consisted of two parents (well, a mother and father…but, nyeh heh, that was not the case with them), a child, and usually a dog. (But he was NOT keeping that motherfucking annoying mutt that hung around the house and ruined everything!)

Parents went on dates, and the child would stay home with a “babysitter”. The baby books the librarian brought over for them detailed that much as well. And, being the only monster in the Underground other than Sans that he trusted, he had turned to the librarian to be their babysitter.

To say that he felt nervous about the whole thing was an understatement.

Personally, Papyrus would have much rather stayed home and just fucked Sans. But, he wanted to do things right. They were a family now, goddamnit, and they were going to do this thing wholeheartedly! Parents went on a date? Check. Now they needed to have dinners at the table, family vacations…somewhere, and play games of “catch” because that’s apparently what families liked to do! He was determined to make this fucking work!

 

 

And he was determined to make things work with Sans.

 

So caught up in his own dreams of grandeur, he nearly tripped as the leash suddenly pulled him back. He spun around in alarm, raising a brow to Sans, who held the leash in his hands. He held Papyrus with anger clear in his sockets. “Sans? What’s wrong-”

“why the hell are you toying with me like this?”

Papyrus faltered. What?! Sans didn’t like this? He thought he liked it when he toyed with him! “Do you want me to take off the collar?” His soul dropped in his chest. He had thought this was something Sans would enjoy…

“no!" He reached a hand up protectively, and blushed in embarrassment once he realized he had reacted so vehemently. "ugh! th-that’s not what i meant, asshole!”

Equal parts angry at being yelled at and delighted he wanted to keep his gift, Papyrus remained silent. Sans looked like he wanted to say more, his mouth opening and shutting in thought, eyes searching him.

 

“i’m serious…what is all this for?” Before Papyrus could speak, Sans held up a defiant finger in pause. “and don’t give me your dodgy shit. i want answers.” He softened a little, his hand fumbling to fidget at his collar.

“i…need answers, Pap.”

 

 

 

Papyrus was put on the spot. Sans watching him expectantly.

He was supposed to be in control. He was supposed to have all the answers. He wasn’t supposed to show such…such…weakness.

 

“S-Sans, I…” He choked. He goddamn choked on his own fucking words. Brilliant.

 

Sans raised a brow at him, looking worried. “bro?”

 

God, why was everything so fucking difficult?! He pinched his brow with an exasperated sigh. “Sans…look, I’m fine. I-I’m just trying to tell you something…and it’s hard to word it.”

 

“ok?” Sans spoke with a question to his voice, confused by Papyrus’ drastic change in behavior.

Oh, god, this was hard.

 

“I, uh… Sans, ugh!” He growled and glared at Sans, angry at the fact that he was making him feel so flustered like this. Shit, he looked like a goddamn fool. But, then again, he supposed he was for feeling this way. “San, I…”

Sans had gone from expectant to impatient, looking rather pissed at his inability to speak. “you, what?”

“I can’t-“

Sans interrupted him with a growl. “you can’t what? fuck, Pap, spit it out already!”

“I’M TRYING, YOU ASSHOLE!” Papyrus roared, losing his temper and patience with both Sans and himself.

“well, try fucking harder! cause you’re doing a pretty shitty job!”

Papyrus stalked forward, his imposing frame holding no impact on the smaller, defiant skeleton. “OH, SAYS _YOU_ , LAZYASS?!”

Sans poked him in the chest. He actually fucking _dared_ to poke him in the _goddamn chest_?! JUST WHAT KIND OF PIECE OF SHIT MOTHERFUCKING CUNT DID HE THINK HE WAS?!

Despite the murderous glare in Papyrus’ eye, Sans pressed on, an agenda clear on his face. “yeah! says _me_! you’re acting fucking weird as hell, so you need to fucking tell me what the hell is going on or else-“

 

Papyrus hissed in anger and grabbed Sans by the front of his shirt. The rebellious glint in his eyes did not fade as Papyrus stared him down. His soul thumped loudly in his chest as anger, lust, and pride all swirled within its confused magic. God, he had never heard Sans talk to him like that before. He had never _seen_ Sans act like that before.

He brought Sans’ skull to his own, and kissed him deeply, letting his actions speak for the moment.

 

Legs wrapped about his waist, and Papyrus readjusted him so that he held him against his chest. He moaned into Sans’ mouth as he ran his tongue against his. Fuck. Fuck, he couldn’t believe Sans had acted like that. Holy shit, he just wanted to wipe that smugness off his face. He just wanted to fuck him into the goddamn ground. Why the hell did he love this piece of shit? Why in god's name did he feel so goddamn much for this awful excuse of a monster? Oh, he just didn't know! Sans just drove him _crazy._

The hips at his waist ground against his, and he groaned. “Sans, listen to me.” He breathed against his teeth as he broke away. Cloudy eyes looked back at him, spittle glistening on his teeth. He fought to keep from kissing him again. He fought to say what it was he wanted to say. “I want…I want to care for you, Sans.” Sans blinked out of his stupor, and before he could speak, Papyrus went on, knowing that if he stopped now, he’d never be able to say it again. “I want you to rely on me. I want you to trust me.” He rested his forehead against Sans’ unable to look at him at the moment, letting his words spill from his mouth freely. “I want your soul. I want all of you. I want you to be mine, Sans.”

 

His soul fluttered in his chest. An aching pound that made his knees feel weak.  

He felt fucking sick to the marrow. He’d never laid himself so bare, so vulnerable. He might as well have served up his soul on a silver platter. It hurt him to say such deeply held secrets, and he hoped Sans would not hurt him. He didn’t know what the other might say, what he might do with him. He was at his mercy.

 

 

“Pap.” Holding his breath, he cast his eye up to Sans. Red eyes, nearly identical to his own, watched him with unwavering attention. His soul pounded against his ribs, he was too afraid to speak, too afraid to do anything as Sans grasped both sides of his skull. “you’re so fucking dramatic.”

Papyrus frowned, his brow scrunching in anger. “Sans, I’m being serious-“

“yeah, and you’re being an idiot, too.” Teeth pressed to his, the body in his arms pressing impossibly closer. “i _am_ yours.” He pulled away from the kiss and hooked a finger through his collar’s ring. “moron.”

 

 

His soul felt likely to burst. It shone through his thick suit, a beacon of burning red. It was embarrassingly bright, the monster in his arms was awash with his light…and hell if he didn’t notice.

“excited, Pap?” He grinned evilly at him, and laughed at his expense. “you’re positively _glowing_! heh heh!”

Papyrus kissed him again, muting his chuckles with his eager tongue. His legs carried them home, he was barely aware of anything other than the small moans and groans from the skeleton in his arms.

They somehow reached the house, Papyrus too drunk off his lover to really care. Slamming Sans against the door of their house, he hissed as Sans took the leverage to grind harder against him. He huffed angrily, “Knock it off- _ah_ , Sans!” Goddamnit, if Sans kept it up his magic was going to fucking manifest already. He fumbled with the keys, and nearly dropped them as Sans boldly grabbed hold of his tie and pulled him into a heated kiss. _Fuck!_

Ramming the key into the lock, they stumbled inside, Sans latching onto him once more, nipping and licking at his neck and throat.

 

Having had enough of Sans’ shit, he all but threw him onto the table in the living room, kicking the door closed behind them. He growled low in his throat and took advantage of Sans’ daze. Grinding his pelvis into the other’s he loosed a breathy laugh at Sans’ whines. “Pap! ah-hah! god, more!” His chest shone brightly with his soul’s excitement, and Papyrus licked his teeth.

“Oh, you’ll have plenty more. More than you could possibly handle-”

 

“Ah-hem!”

 

Both skeletons froze and jolted at the cough. Wide eyed, they turned to see the librarian standing over by the couch, purposefully looking away, a blush bright enough to rival their souls on his face. “I...uh, see you’re both ah-hem…busy…so, I’ll see myself out.” He practically ran to the door, and Papyrus was quick to meet him there.

He straightened his suit as best he could, and offered an apologetic smile. “Ah, I’m so sorry. I, um…w-we, really appreciated you watching Eras.” Self-conscious, he smoothed down his ruffled shirt. “W-was Eras any trouble?”

The librarian could not bring himself to look at Papyrus, but he smiled kindly. “No, no trouble at all. Slept like a baby.” He giggled and turned to look over at the laundry room. “I washed those clothes and the other stuff you had in the bag by the couch-“

Sans, whom had been silent the entire time, spoke up suddenly, sounding surprised. “you did?!”

The librarian looked over at him, and quickly looked away from the still-bright soul in his chest. “Y-yes, I did. Well, it’s time I got home!” He opened the door, clearly wanting to get out of the embarrassing situation as quickly as possible.

 

“I’ll walk you home.” Papyrus insisted, knowing that while his pride was hurt from the humiliating predicament it was late out, and a weak monster should not be out alone.

The librarian shrugged him off, of course, but he would not take no for an answer.

 

He gave Sans a secret grin, that grew all the wider when he saw Sans shiver. “I’ll be home soon.” He called over his shoulder, leaving Sans to wonder at what plans he had in store for him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *teases you*  
> I know what you all are waiting for~


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I felt bad for teasing. :3

 

 

While Papyrus was out, Sans went upstairs, careful to avoid the steps that creaked. The walkie-talkie in his hand remained quiet, save a gentle snore here and there. Heh, he snored like Papyrus. A smile stretched his skull as he carefully pushed open the door to their room. All was quiet as he tiptoed his way to the crib.

A small, relieved sigh broke free as he looked at the sleepy-bones within.

 

Eras snored gently within, dead to the world. Sans smiled wide as he saw his sockets give little twitches, his fingers and toes curling ever so slightly as he dreamed little skeleton dreams.

His soul beat warmly in his chest. He never thought he would've been a parent. It hadn’t exactly been one of his top priorities in life. In fact, you could say that he never wanted a kid. If you'd have told him he was going to be a dad one day he'd have laughed in your face. Sans? A parent?! Heh heh, what kind of shit did you get _into_? Heh heh heh!

 

He wasn’t exactly the “parent type”. He was obnoxious, untrustworthy, he drank, he cursed like no one’s fucking business, he was cruel, he was heartless (heh), and he was hopelessly selfish and weak.  

 

Not exactly the kind of person you’d want as a dad.

 

 

 

His smile faded as he looked down at Eras.

Sans reminded himself a lot of his father.

 

 

Constantly drunk, hopeless, self-absorbed...and ultimately selfish. The kid deserved better. What if Sans…?

 

His hands clenched into fists, his wandering mind unable to complete the thought. Yeah, he’d given up before. Yeah, he didn’t used to care if he lived or died. It was why he used to drink, he had honestly not cared.

He let the small breathing sounds from the small child ground him. Things were different now.

He cared. He had actually not had a drink in days! He was trying to be better, really. He wanted to be better. Not just for Eras, but for Papyrus, and himself too. Sans didn’t want to be _him._

No! Sans _wasn’t_ like him and he wouldn’t _be_ like him! Sans wouldn’t give up on Eras. He wouldn’t run if and when the going got tough, as it always did.

That was the underground for you. Life was tough, life would shit on you and not give a fucking damn. Boo. Fucking. Hoo.

Sans wasn’t going to run. Sans wasn’t going to abandon his only son. He wasn’t going to leave him to wonder “why?” He wasn’t going to leave him to cry late into the night, wishing he’d done more, wishing he’d have known what to do, wishing he could have done something…anything…

 

 

No.

 

 

Gently, Sans reached into the crib, and let his phalanges brush against the frail hands of his child.

The hand reflexively grasped at him, and he took comfort in the feeling. His eyes felt hot with unshed tears. No, he would be there for Eras. He'd read him bedtime stories. He'd teach him how to use magic. He'd play with him in the snow. He'd protect him and fight for him. He would hold him tight and not let him go. He’d tell him jokes, he’d hold him when he cried, he’d never turn him away, he’d love him no matter what.

No matter how hard things got.

 

Taking back his hand with a tiny tug, he left the sleeping babe lie, his soul feeling full and happy.

 

 

Avoiding the creaky steps, he descended to the living room, his skull swamped with his thoughts.

You know, he was ok with this. He was actually a bit excited about this. He actually kind of looked forward to the road ahead, laden with unseen possibilities. He wasn’t naïve. He knew things would be bumpy, nothing was perfect after all.

Heh, Sans was tougher than he looked. He might have 1 hp, he might be small, he might tire easily…but he was determined. He could handle whatever the future could throw at him. Even if things did get a little shaky, at least he wasn't alone. 

 

His hand reached up to fidget with his collar. 

 

He had Papyrus.

 

 

Speaking of which... He looked over at the clock, starting to get antsy. Papyrus had been gone quite a while…

He knew Papyrus had plans for the night, and while he was beyond himself with excitement he was nervous, too. Sans stalked about the living room, sweat pouring from his skull. Why did he feel so nervous?

 

He tugged anxiously at his collar again. God, why did he feel so goddamn _nervous_? It wasn’t like it was their first time… But for some reason it felt a lot like it. Back when Sans had tried to keep his feelings from Papyrus. Back when he had hidden his heats from him.

They were a couple years apart in age, and Sans had isolated himself when the fire lit within his soul. He hadn’t held feelings for his younger brother then. Back when they lived in the caves of Waterfall, he hadn’t really known _what_ he’d wanted. He was in an awkward stage with his body, and he just knew that his soul and magic hurt, and he needed to relieve his pain. Usually he’d go deep into the caves and jack-off until he hurt. Eventually he’d feel too tired to care anymore and his heat would ebb away unfulfilled.

The first time they had done anything sexual together was after Pap’s first heat.

 

 

His brother's desperate sounds echoed throughout their new home. Papyrus had always been a bit naïve. He hadn’t really understood what was happening to himself.

Not that Sans blamed him, he hadn’t been told about such things. Their Da- Gaster, had…left…before Papyrus had been old enough to learn of such things.

Sans had sat outside his door, listening to the whimpers and whines as his brother dealt with the unusual feelings, surely exploring himself…trying to piece apart how to end the pain in his bones…

 

To say that Sans was sick would be an understatement. It was the first time he’d thought of Papyrus as more than a brother. He had felt so awful, sitting there, touching himself to the sounds behind the door. It was the first time he had ever felt pleasure from the touches to his bones. Before it had only ever been a frantic need to get rid of the sensations in his bones. A need to rid himself of something that was very bad, or so he’d been told.

 

The sounds Papyrus made, the smell of him on the air…it was anything but bad. Oh, it all had made his soul go into an unnaturally soon heat itself. The very next day he had felt hot to the point of burning. It had been absolutely unbearable.

 

Groaning in his bed, he could not stop thinking of his brother. Normally, when he was in heat, it was just the sensations that he craved.

It had been so different that time.

All he could think about was Papyrus. The memory of his smell made his mouth water, the thought of his touches made him whimper in silent torture, his voice sent shivers through his bones. And when Papyrus banged on his door with angry, violent rasps, Sans could barely contain himself. “SANS! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?! YOU’RE BEING UNUSUALLY NOISY. KNOCK IT OFF!”

 

The heat had clouded his mind. He barely remembered going to the door and opening it. All he remembered was Papyrus and the look of utter disgust on his face as he looked at Sans’ sweaty frame. He had begged him, groveling at the other’s feet. His heat had never been so bad. It was torturous, his bones coated in napalm just from the intensity of Papyrus’ stare. His soul like the sun when Papyrus picked him up off the floor.

 

Despite all the burning in his skull, he had felt nervous when Papyrus laid him on the bed. He was barely taller than him at the time, but the way he carried himself, the way those red eyes looked right through him… He seemed so much older than he was.

 

Commanding and demanding, he had made Sans strip for him. He had made Sans lie before him on the bed. He had made him struggle with his heat, begging for him to touch him, crying with need. Papyrus had watched him with a glare, but relented eventually, drawing forth magic tendrils to wrap about his bones. Sans hadn’t expected that kind of magic.

He sure as hell didn’t expect it to feel the way it did.

It had been the most wonderful thing he had ever felt. Never having been touched before, it was immensely pleasurable, it was so much better than he could have ever imagined. And the fact that it was Papyrus…oh, it had been truly the best.

Rough and fast, Papyrus’ nose scrunched in disgust at the fluids he spilt as he came. The way he frowned at the moans and gasps he made. Oh, it had only made him burn all the more. He had felt dirty. He felt like he had committed a taboo, and god if it didn’t feel amazing. He felt poisoned and tarnished and he loved it.

Sans had given everything up that night, surrendering himself and giving himself up. It had felt so wrong, so horribly wrong…but fuck did it feel good. To relinquish himself to his brother, entrusting his body to him. Heh, he would never get enough of it.

 

 

Sans groaned to himself at the memory, well aware of his soul’s pounding.

Papyrus wanted control, and Sans wanted to be controlled.

 

Weren’t they just the perfect pair?

 

 

Settling onto the couch, he let his eyes fall to his shorts. Crusted on the front was his cum from earlier, a reminder of what Papyrus had done to him. Of what Papyrus could _do_ to him. Letting his sockets close, he loosed a shaky breath as he snaked a hand under the band of his shorts.

Fuck Papyrus for leaving him like this. He’d certainly be more than ready for a couple of rounds at least after all he’d put him through tonight.

His phalanges danced along his pelvis, so sensitive that it made him hiss under his breath.

 

God, he swore that he felt more nervous than that first time. This was different. Papyrus actually _wanted_ to do this with Sans. He stifled a choked sound as he remembered the way he had looked at him at the restaurant, at the way he had teased him on the boat.

The way Papyrus had admitted his feelings to Sans.

He tugged at his collar with his other hand, loving the feel of it around his throat. He was Papyrus’. “Ah…” He breathed softly, loving the feeling. Loving that Papyrus wanted to own him, loving that he controlled him in such a wonderful way. He was Papyrus’. He belonged to him. Oh, god, he was his and only his…

 

He jumped as a weight lighted upon his shoulders.

Eyes flashing open, he threw his head back against the couch to see Papyrus. The taller skeleton grinned down at him, that soul-twisting spark in his eye.

 

“What the hell are you doing, Sans?”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

The house was quiet when he came home. He had half expected Sans to jump into his arms as soon as he got through the door.

 

Odd, you'd think he'd be ready-

Papyrus perked up when he saw the top of Sans' skull peeking over the couch.

 

Hmm, what was he... He wasn't SLEEPING was he?!

 

He crept to the couch, uncertain of the situation. His previous anger blinked away as he took in the sight before him. Sans sat on the couch, hand in his pants, touching his pelvis.

Certainly at the thought of him. Papyrus watched him a moment, an amused grin stretching his skull.

 

A groan left his brother's teeth, a quiet, raw sound that lie free of any influence. It made Papyrus shiver. Part of him wanted to just watch, to secretly admire the other's unguarded passion...but the other part of him, that hungry, selfish part of him, wanted to make sure he learned his lesson. How dare he try to start without him.

He would have to do something about that, now wouldn’t he?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PSYCH BITCHES! *TEASING INTENSIFIES*  
> >:3


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is literally the longest chapter in the story. And its nothing but smut.  
> Goddamnit fuck my life.
> 
> Also! Check out this amazing fanart:  
> [I Want You to Be Mine](http://undertalefruitsalad.tumblr.com/post/142709019736/inspired-by-burden-to-bear-by-yupimgross) by [@undertalefruitsalad](http://undertalefruitsalad.tumblr.com/)  
> AND  
> [Sexy Romantic Dinner Date](http://voidworthytrash.tumblr.com/post/143106141908/so-did-someone-say-sexy-romantic-dinner-date) by [@voidworthytrash](http://voidworthytrash.tumblr.com/)

 

 

He laid his hands upon the small skeleton's shoulders, making him jump to attention. Wide, red eyes looked up at him in surprise, embarrassment, and guilt.

 

"What the hell are you doing, Sans?" He laughed as he let himself sink down into the back of the couch. He draped his arms around the other's neck, making certain that he jostled the collar there.

 

Sans gasped as he grabbed the hand that had previously been in his pants. With a smirk and a grin, Papyrus lifted it to his face for inspection. "What was it you said the other day, Sans?" Wrapping a hand about his collar, he pulled up on the sturdy leather and Sans' hands reflexively flung up to grasp at his throat. As the other choked and squirmed, he laughed at the irony. "Nyeh heh! Something about being caught _red-handed_?"

 

 

Papyrus felt a twisted sort of pleasure in seeing his partner kick and flail, so helpless to his will. He was his to do with as he pleased. 

He growled in pleasure and released Sans, letting him sputter and gasp for air on the couch. Stalking round the couch to stand to face him, he addressed the smaller skeleton sternly and precisely. "You will apologize to me now for touching yourself." He grinned wide, “You are _mine_ to touch, whelp.”

 

Sans coughed as he gripped at his collar, a spark in his eye despite his sweaty, seemingly exhausted appearance. An excited grin stretched his skull at Papyrus' words and the taller skeleton shivered before the challenge was even spoke. 

"make me."

 

 

Oh, he would.

 

With a feigned frown he snatched him up by the front of his shirt, bringing him close. "WHY YOU, LITTLE CUNT." He broke out of character as the edges of his frown curled into a grin. 

He'd slipped, but you'd hardly be able to tell. Sans certainly didn't seem to notice. The skeleton wriggled in his grip, hands clawing at his fist. "let me go, ya sick freak!"

 

“Hmm, as you wish…” He released him, letting him fall to the floor like the sack of shit he was. Before he could get his wits about him, Papyrus was upon him. He shoved his chest to the ground, and taking the leash from his pocket he bound his arms behind him.

"get off of me!" Sans growled, not letting Papyrus take him without a fight.

 

 

His soul pounded against his ribs with excitement as he wrestled him to his will, the both of them a panting, growling tangle of limbs on the floor. Sans could be quite slippery and difficult when he wanted to be, and Papyrus so enjoyed it when he struggled.

"Nyeh heh heh!" He chuckled in victory when he finally hefted the tired skeleton up under his arm and rose to his feet. Grabbing the baby monitor from the couch, he tucked it into his jacket and then made his way to the steps. He grinned down at the nervous look upon Sans' face. "You still haven't apologized, Sans."

 

"f-fuck you!" He stammered, struggling a little in his bonds, actually seeming a little bit anxious about what he had in store for him.

As he should be.

 

 

He took his time, drawing out his brother’s fear, stretching out the anticipation. Humming gently, he walked past their bedroom, towards Sans’ room.

Before he opened the door, he dropped the pile of bones to the floor, causing Sans to lose his breath with a loud huff. Papyrus kneeled to the floor, and wriggled a finger through his tie, tugging it loose. Sans’ ribs rose and fell with wheezing breaths, weakly trying to worm away as Papyrus overpowered him, wrapping the red tie about his skull. Tying it tight in the back, he hummed in delight at his little makeshift blindfold.

Sans was dying to see what was on the other side, but, nyeh heh heh, he was not going to get to see until _he_ deemed it so.

 

 

“Pap, w-what-?” Sans stammered, his soul pounding as Papyrus ran his claws down the front of his sweater, teasing.

“Shut up, Sans.” He purred as he pulled him into a kiss, taking him by surprise before pulling away too soon. With a choked sound from Sans, he grabbed the back of his hoodie and drug behind him through the door. He placed the monitor on the dresser by the door, tsking at Sans whom still was trying to struggle. “You’re making such a fuss.”

 

He all but threw the lazyass onto the mattress. Of which he had staked bones at the head of the bed, making a nice little post for him to tie his prize. Grabbing the rope he had laid out beforehand, he untied the leash about Sans’ hands and replaced it with the rough twine.

“Pap…ah, w-what are you doing?”

He ignored him, focusing on weaving the rope through his arm bones and securing them up above his head. Oh, he looked so nervous! Brow bones pinched beneath his blindfold, sweat pouring from his skull, his shit-eating grin non-existent. Papyrus couldn’t help himself. He leaned in and ran his tongue along the side of his skull, tasting the salty sweat and grinning at the gasp he elicited. His hands roamed down to grip at his ribs, scratching them through the fabric beneath his phalanges. “hhha-“ Sans sighed, his body going rigid before relaxing into the unexpected touch.

Nibbling at his throat, he groaned heavily in the crook of his shoulder, and then grunted as the other’s fluffy hood tickled at his nasal aperture.

 

Right, his clothes needed to come off. Shouldn’t get too ahead of himself.

 

With a flick of his wrist, his magic tendrils slashed open his clothes, cutting them from his bones. He had no patience to work them off of him now that he was bound. “the fuck, boss?!” Sans hissed, gritting his teeth in anger at the sound of torn fabric. “that was my jacket!”

 

“I’ll get you a new one, asshole.” He growled low in his throat and kissed him, rolling his tongue about the others. All but devouring the other with his kiss…

 

 

Until Sans fucking bit him.

 

 

“MMF!” He sputtered and drew back, the sting of the bite to his tongue nearly as enraging as the taste of his own magic.

“what’s the matter, Pap? ya seem a bit _tongue_ -tied!” The smaller skeleton grinned wide, his brows waggling in that infuriating way of his beneath his blindfold. Cherry-red magic trailed from a corner of his mouth, certainly not his own.

_THE FUCKING GALL._

He grabbed Sans about the throat, his soul seething with anger. “YOU. LITTLE. BITCH.” The skeleton still grinned even as he choked him, a coughing laugh sneaking past his teeth.

 

Goddamnit, Sans was a dick. And Papyrus fucking loved it.

 

Papyrus was so turned on it was excruciating. There was certainly something wrong with him, but hell if he cared. Loosening his grip, he let the other catch his breath…before he bit him back.

“ _shit!_ ” Sans screamed from the unexpected bite to his shoulder, his brother’s teeth much longer and sharper than his own.

 

Breaking away from the bite, he moved back to try kissing again. “If you do that again, _I won’t be so tender._ ”

Clanking their skulls back together, he grinned against his teeth with that vile smile of his. Sans shivered under the innocent-enough kiss, uncertain what he was going to do next.

 

It was going to be more than just kissing, that was for damn sure.

Pulling away with a chuckle, he turned to the box he had laid out beside the mattress, and made certain to be noisy as he pulled out what was inside.

Sans listened with rapt attention, his expression so nervously excited…ah, it made him ache!

Inside were items he had had Alphys make for him some time ago. He had used them on only one occasion with Sans, and he had loved them. But Papyrus at the time was quite disgusted by how much _fluid_ he’d produced from their application. Now though...well, he was looking forward to seeing just how much “slime” he could produce.

Taking the small, round device, he hummed to himself as he taped it to Sans’ femur.

 

Sans flinched from the feel of the cool metal on his leg, trying to curl in on himself and squirm away from the unknown object. “P-Pap?! what the hell is that?!”

“You’ll find out.” He teased, and brought out an identical item, securing it near his sacrum, not quite at the sacrum though, just at the little sweet-spot Sans seemed to have near there. The smile on his skull hurt as he laughed to himself, knowing this was going to just _ruin_ the skeleton beneath him.

Sans shivered and shifted, actually seeming a bit scared from his cackle.

 

To say Papyrus was enjoying this would be an understatement.

 

“Are you ready?” He purred, taking the dial in his hands, awaiting his brother’s consent before proceeding.

Sans whimpered gently, no doubt wishing he could see what it was Papyrus had in store for him. “y-yeah, bro…”

He paused, reading Sans thoroughly, and feeling uncertain of his reply. “You sure, Sans?” Lighting a hand upon his cheek, he brushed a thumb just under the edge of his blindfold.

“heh, sorry, i was just a bit _blind_ -sided, heh heh!” Sans grinned at him, still nervous, but at least he had the spunk to give a retort. “bring it, you puss- _ayy_!”

Sans arched as Papyrus turned the dial, the pulsing vibrations sending tremors through his bones.

“nnnn-nah! w-w-what?! Pap! what the fuck is th- _ahhh_!” He screamed as Papyrus brought the intensity up, his soul pounding in his chest fiercely at the way Sans squirmed. The devices buzzed against his bones, chattering metal meeting bone.

 

Papyrus turned the intensity up another notch, and cooed, “You still haven’t apologized to me, Sans.”

 

The skeleton huffed and panted, cried and screamed, pulling at his restraints. The pleasure enough to make him wild, but not enough to bring him beyond the edge. His pelvis burned brightly, his soul shining through the quickened rise and fall of his ribs. “Pap! p-please…oh, god!”

He cranked the intensity up to its highest setting, the skeleton going rigid and stiff as he shook, his breath catching in his throat. He was close now, without even touching his magic…interesting.

 

He turned the devices off.

 

“uhh…” Sans whined, his bones settling into the mattress. Seeming both happy and angry at the loss of intensity. “d-don’t…”

“Don’t what? I don’t think that’s an apology, Sans.” He turned the knob to its highest setting, grinning from the piercing cry that split the air.

Nyeh heh, good thing their rooms were sound-proofed.

 

Turning it off again, he let Sans cool off before he leaned in close, his breath dancing along his flushed cheekbones. “Say you’re sorry.” He threatened with a tight grasp at his hips, the sensitive magic sparking and making Sans jump. He licked along his jaw as he turned the vibrations back on, the lowest setting, and continued to scratch at his hips.

Sans was a shivering wreck, unable to cum due to forming no genitalia. Unable to do more than writhe under his power. He teased at his pelvis, pulling away before it was enough to let his magic form. Toying with the magic, trying to decide what version he’d like to play with-

“ah-hah! ah! i-i’m sorry! fuck me, i’m sorry goddamnit! j-just stop it!”

 

There it was!

 

 

Papyrus grinned and clanked a sweet kiss to his forehead. “Good boy.” He turned the vibrations up just a little, and got up from the mattress. “I’m going to check on Eras. Why don’t you stay here for a little while, hmm?”

He walked over to the door and leaned against the wall, opening the door and pausing a moment before closing it again, pretending to have left him alone. He let himself fall completely silent, seemingly disappearing to the blindfolded skeleton. He watched and waited with a grin, seeing the concern start to form on Sans’ skull.

“P-Papyrus?” He called quietly. “a-are you there?” Sans squirmed in his restraints with a growl, a choked sound whining from his teeth. “fuckhead! he left me here! ah, ah, sh-shit…god…” His hips bucked against the air, his legs rubbing against each other, desperate for friction.

 

 

Taking the baby monitor from the dresser, he quickly made sure Eras was still snoring. Yep, sleeping like a babe. Even with the sound-proofing, he was impressed they hadn’t awakened him.

Must get that from Sans.

 

 

A loud, frustrated sob made him turn back to his lover.

Oh, this was priceless. Sans had twisted himself onto his side, managing to hump himself against his leg. It was hard to watch, but amusing none-the-less. He’d never be able to get off that way…but he probably could form genitalia.

Placing the baby monitor back on the dresser, he cleared his throat.

 

Sans jumped, his skull whipping around at the sound. “P-Papyrus?! are you in here?!”

Ghosting forward, light on his feet, he crept close before he whispered. “Right here, Sans.” Taking advantage of the other’s shock, he roughly pulled him from his twisted position. He wrenched his legs to either side of his hips, and palmed his pelvis.

 

 

“oh, fuck, please, Pap. please, c’mon…please…” He chanted quietly, his skull falling back into the mattress as Papyrus finally let his magic curl and form. Sans’ thick, stout cock manifested in his hand, already twitching and swollen from his overloaded magic. He stroked it gently, watching Sans pant and cry from finally being able to feel something other than teasing.

All it would take is a few good tugs and he’d probably cum, the rattling against his bones egging his magic on, pooling more and more into his beating soul and cock.

 

Too bad he wasn’t done with him yet.

 

 

Reaching into the box, he brought out a smaller, simpler item. A nice little ring, nyeh heh, nice for his purposes perhaps, but Sans sure as hell wasn’t going to like it.

Grasping the rock hard appendage, he easily rolled it on.

 

Sans gagged from the tight feeling. “what is that?! get it off!”

“No.” Papyrus purred, stroking his cock experimentally. Huh, it worked. The ring kept him from cumming, his cock a twitching, throbbing, sad thing.

Unable to say anything, Sans was lost to the sensations, his mind gone foggy between the vibrations to his bones and the hand stroking his cock. As if that weren’t bad enough, Papyrus leaned down to have a taste, wondering how much Sans could handle.

 

Screaming, the hips beneath him bucked into his mouth, begging, cursing, and crying mixing into nonsense as Papyrus ran his tongue along his length.

 

He was feeling too damn good for his liking.

 

With a chuckle he ran the pointed tip of his tongue into the slit, shoving inside just a tiny bit.

The response was immediate and delicious. Sans writhed beneath him, his body shaking and his soul bursting in his chest with a terrible brightness as he came. His cock twitched and throbbed in his mouth, unable to release as his soul had.

 

Sans lie panting and breathless, shivers wracking his frame.

Pulling away from his cock, he licked at his teeth, feeling more than ready for some fun of his own. “Ready for more?”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Soul pounding in his chest, he struggled to catch his breath.

Ohh fffuuuckkk…

He had never felt so turned on in his life. Oh, he needed to cum so bad. Oh, god he would probably sell his _fucking soul_ at this point. Fuck, don’t make him promise anything, oh god, it hurt so bad. This was worse than any heat could ever be.

 

He jumped as his cock twitched from a gentle puff of air as Papyrus _goddamn moved._ He didn’t even touch it, he just moved near it- OH GOD, FUCK PAPYRUS!

A horrible whine strained from his throat, his cock burning with his magic.

 

“Pap, please.” He choked, desperately hoping he would just end him. Oh, god, just end him. Fuck, it hurt so goddamn good. What the fuck.

He strained to hear what Papyrus was doing, the buzzing things on his bones still making it hard to hear. Shaking and sweating, he wanted friction, but at the same time he didn’t cause even if he got It he would be unable to cum. Fuck, Papyrus was cruel!

The devices turned off, their metal casing disappearing from his bones. The lack of their teasing nearly made him cry from relief. His magic finally could calm at least a little, his aching soul slowing to a more manageable state. So caught up in his rapture, he did not notice Papyrus so close. A low, rumbling voice at his cheek made him gasp. “I’m taking the blindfold off. Keep your eyes closed.”

When nothing happened after a moment, he nodded blindly. Hands reached around to untie the cloth about his skull, and he did as he was told.

 

Teeth clanked kisses to his sockets, the loving gesture a bit of a surprise after the torture from earlier. Sans sighed as hands ran over his silhouette, taking in his thick bones and rather pudgy frame with great care and attention. He wasn’t the sexiest monster. His bad diet and bad habits took their toll on him. Papyrus was every bit his opposite: sexy and toned, slim and graceful. Fuck, he didn’t know what he saw in him. Yet his partner moaned as he bent to clank at his sternum, and licked along his ribs, seeming more than happy with his body. The mouth pulled away to hover near his teeth, breath hot against his jaw. “I want to try something, Sans. Do you trust me?”

 

Sans carefully blinked open his eyes, letting them adjust to the room. A piercing red eye watched over him, an admiring grin stretching the marred skull that housed it. “you can do anything you want, Pap.” He laughed, before he stretched himself up to peck a quick kiss. “i’m all yours.”

 

 

Fire sparked in his brother’s eye, his blazing soul bright in his chest. “Thank you.” He clanked him tenderly before he reached up behind Sans’ head and undid his hands. “Here. Give me a second, Sans.” He sighed and went over to the dresser by the door, bringing the walkie-talkie-baby-monitor to his skull.

 

Sans felt a flash of guilt. Oh, geez. He had actually kind of forgotten about Eras with all that they had been doing. Oh, shit. What if something had happened?!

God, he felt like a shitty parent.

 

“hey, Pap!” He called out, making Papyrus turn to him.

“He’s fine,” Papyrus reassured him. “I just wanted to check. I wouldn’t be able to hear him from over there-“

“why don’t ya put it on the other dresser over here? I’d be able to hear him if he cries that way.”

 

Papyrus blinked, and laughed nervously. “That is a good idea…though…nyeh heh, I’m sorry I broke the mood. I just got worried-”

“no, its ok, Pap! i should’ve thought about him. but its ok, here, put it on the dresser and we can, heh heh, y’know…” He wiggled his brows at him with a lick to his teeth. “i’m getting a bit _bonely_ over here. heh heh heh!”

The blush that broke across Papyrus’ cheeks was fucking worth all the awkwardness. As much as he loved Papyrus’ big bad skeleton shtick, he liked to see him flustered and embarrassed too. Heh, he could look pretty fucking cute sometimes.

Placing the monitor on the other dresser, Papyrus turned to Sans and clanked a quick kiss to his forehead.

 

Sans leaned up and brought him into a real kiss, sliding his tongue against his own. Sans really was loving all of this. He still couldn’t believe Papyrus had done all this for him.

Pulling out of the kiss with a wet sound, Papyrus cocked his head to the side in that funny way he had when he was thinking.

“what’s up?” Sans questioned, grinning at the slight tug at the left side of his brother’s mouth.

“Hmm, trying to decide how I want to do this.”

 

He became fully aware of the ring still tight about his dick as it twitched in excitement. “do what…exactly?”

“Nyeh heh, well, _you_ of course.” Soul fluttering in his chest, Papyrus shrugged. “Hmm, alright, I think I’ve made up my mind.” His expression darkened, that way-too-sexy grin curling on his skull. “On your knees.”

 

 

On his knees?

Oh, shit.

 

Shaky with nervousness, he did as he was told, trying to keep the grin on his face. Oh, fuck what was he going to do-

Red magic tentacles snaked from behind Papyrus, working their way to Sans and wrapping about him. Normally, he would call bullshit on this being something “new” cause Papyrus used this sort of magic all the time (not that it was bad).

What made him pause was the utter concentration on Papyrus face. His hands shone brightly with his magic, long, graceful phalanges directing the magic with intricate motions. He looked down with a gasp as the magic wove between his bones, overlapping and knotting about itself, stretching and thinning as it spanned about his body.

He held perfectly still, apart from a command here or there from Papyrus.

 

The way the magic conformed so perfectly to his body, forming an intricate design through his bones into a cohesive mesh…well, he was pretty impressed.

Bright red magic criss-crossed his chest down to his pelvis, looping through his obturator foramen, across his sacrum, and detailing his spine in the most painstaking pattern.

“P-Put your arms behind your back.” Papyrus barked, his voice gruff from the strain of manipulating the magic.

Sans put his hands back, a light groan on his tongue as he felt that same lovely magic weave between his ulna and radius, bridging up to his femurs to loop about his collar and tie off there.

“Hah, there we go.” Papyrus panted, making off to grab something or other from a nearby dresser.

While he was gone, Sans looked down at Papyrus’ handiwork, too excited to not admire it. God, he actually…looked good? He tested its sturdiness, loving the feel as it dug into his bones. His soul fluttered in slight panic at being unable to move, unable to free himself. He was at Papyrus’ mercy-

 

 

He perked up at the sound of a loud snap.

 

 

Papyrus stood before him, evil grin curling his skull, that steely, dark spark to his eye…and a signal whip tapping at his thigh.

Oh, baby. Where the hell had he gotten that?!

 

He sashayed back over to him, with that sexy sway of his, flaunting those hips just so. The whip swishing about his legs, taunting him. “Is anything too tight?” He purred, looping a finger through his restraints and tugging at the binding, making it bite.

Sans shivered as Papyrus wrapped the whip about his throat, smiling at his slight fear.

 

Swallowing hard, he dared to utter a pun. “n-no, it’s _knot_!” Sans replied back with a grin, making Papyrus’ grip audibly tighten on the leather implement in his gloves. The erotic sound of leather-on-leather made his bones quake.

Papyrus caught the excitement in his eyes. “You look like a bitch in heat.” He smirked as he wrapped his fingers about his collar, pulling him up to his face. “And you’re _my_ bitch.” As if to accentuate his ownership, he gave the whip in his hands a crack, making Sans jump.

Whoof!

Sans grinned up at his brother. God, he wasn’t going to be able to walk tomorrow if he said this…but fuck it. “f-funny, considering you were _my_ bitch not too long ago.” Sans’ grin widened as Papyrus scowled and let him fall back onto the mattress.

Looks like he’d hit a nerve.

“Why you, little cunt!” Papyrus lifted the whip and snapped it dangerously close to his bones, the fire in his sockets burning.

Sans was going to get wrecked. And god, he wanted nothing more.

“I’m going to whip that smugness right out of you, you piece of-”

 

 

The walkie-talkie by his head on the dresser blared with the sound of an annoyed baby bones.

With a sigh, he gave the safeword, “blue.”

 

 

Papyrus instantly rushed forward. “What? Are you alright? Is the magic too tight? Did I hit you?” He scanned over his body, quickly checking for signs of damage to his bones.

Sans laughed, the switch between bad-bones bedroom Papyrus and concerned-lover Papyrus was quite a shock. “baby’s crying.” He stated simply.

“Oh!” Papyrus blinked, shaken from his worry. He chuckled down at Sans and flashed him a sultry look, “Don’t rush to go get him, lazyass.”

“heh. i would, but I’m a bit _tied up_ at the moment.”

Papyrus laughed through his nose as he smiled and quickly clanked a kiss to his forehead before he turned to go check on the kid.

As Sans watched him go, he saw that Papyrus had accidentally taken the whip with him. He made a mental note to come up with something witty when he got back.

 

 

Though he was a little irked at their play being interrupted, he wasn’t too upset. After all, what are ya gonna to do?

He laid back into the bed, listening to the walkie-talkie as Papyrus attended their baby.

“Hey there, Eras. What’s the matter, huh?” Papyrus’ low, soothing voice rumbled. “Shh, shh, shh…it’s alright. Papa’s here.”

 

 

Sans felt his soul lift in his chest.

“Papa?”

Oh, god, that was fucking adorable. He wanted their kid to call him Papa? Sans felt his mouth stretch into a warm smile. Papa… It seemed to fit him.

He continued to listen as the baby’s cries began to settle, calming down as Papyrus gently hummed him back to sleep. Sans felt his own eyelids droop. He was just starting to nod off when he heard Papyrus clear his throat from the door.

 

 

The tall, thin skeleton leaned on the door frame, his arms crossed against his chest. He raised a brow at him as he loosed a dark laugh. “Nyeh heh heh. Sleeping? Maybe I ought to give you a reason to stay awake.” Papyrus stalked forward and crawled onto the bed, shadowing Sans with his body. A devilish grin turning up the corners of his mouth.

Sans saw that he forgot the whip.

“was the kid that big of a shithead?” He looked at Papyrus expectantly.

“What?” Papyrus cocked his head at him, his role broken once more from his confusion. “No, he was fine-”

Clearly the joke had been lost on him. “heh heh. you forgot the whip, numbskull.”

 

 

Papyrus stared down at him for a moment before it clicked. He snorted and clanked his forehead onto Sans’ sternum as he laughed, “Nyeh heh heh heh! Ah, whoops…” He looked over his shoulder at the door and sighed tiredly. “If I go back in now he’ll wake up…”

Sans chuckled to himself. He supposed that’s just what happens when you’ve got a young kid.  
He shrugged, well, as best he could in the magic binding. “do whatever ya want, boss. you know me, i’m game for anything.” He looked down at his pelvis, and then pointedly back at Papyrus.

“Hmm, I suppose you are…” Papyrus withdrew from him, bringing his hands to rest on his hipbones. He shivered as Papyrus lowered himself down to laugh against his thigh, his hot breath making him flinch. “Let’s see how much you like this.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

His mouth watering with anticipation, he latched his teeth onto his femur, digging them into the sensitive bone. Sans screamed from the pain, his cries only making him bite down harder, groaning as marrow bubbled up to meet his tongue.

Releasing the bone, he licked at his teeth. Red beaded along his crescent bite, appearing near-black in the dim light of the room. Groaning, he looked up to see Sans a shivering, blushing mess. Red eyes watched him through glazed, heavy sockets, begging him to continue without saying a word. Oh, he was more than happy to do so. He lapped at the bite, running his long tongue up and down the other’s femur, getting close to his pelvis on occasion to draw out a shivering sigh.

 

Sated, he crawled his way up the smaller body, licking at his hip teasingly, making Sans jolt, his semi-erect cock wanting for attention, but he was not ready to give it. He moved on to his spine, and grinned as he pressed a kiss to its middle. He scraped the edge of his teeth gently along the vertebrae.

“ahh, ha…mmn,” Sans clenched his teeth, trying to hold back his sounds.

 

Papyrus was having none of that.

He bit his spine, his mouth able to wrap fully about its girth. As he sunk his teeth in, he wrapped his tongue about the bone in his mouth, mixing the pleasure with the pain until Sans was nothing but a screaming mess. “Pap! oh god! f-fuck! ahn!”

He cleaned up his work, and moved on, planting more cruel-kisses to his ribs, his shoulders... Marks left by him, and no one else. Growling low in his throat, he gripped Sans beneath his chin and kissed him deeply, letting him taste his own life’s blood on his tongue. Sans moaned into his kiss, and stiffened with a gasp as Papyrus ran his claws across the scrapes and nips, the bites and tender bruises. He nipped at his lower jaw, their teeth scraping as he did so, sending a shiver of pain up Papyrus’ spine. “Hah…” He breathed as he moved to his throat, suddenly biting down into the soft, vulnerable bones.

Sans stilled, his breath catching in his ribs. Afraid to move, to breath as Papyrus hovered over that pulsing source in his bones. Magic coursed just beneath his teeth, so close and so easy to nick with his sharp teeth. Oh, the trust in this was delicious. He gently bit harder, appreciating the beat beneath him, knowing that he had the power to snap right through if he so wanted. It was a melancholy thought, one that made his soul beat hard in his chest.

 

Drawing back, he licked the marrow, and kissed the pulse, sucking at the bones with tender care. “Sans.” He whispered against his throat and then clanked his way to his teeth, drawing him into a passionate kiss. He loved him so, he could not bear to know that that pulse would stop, that it could be stopped. “Sans, oh…”

Sans kissed him back, his arms struggling against his intricately woven bonds, wanting so badly to return the pleasure.

Their souls mingled, even through the thick fabric of his suit. They tugged against one another, wanting to be closer.

 

 

Papyrus pulled away, as much as it hurt to do so.

He shrugged off his jacket, grinning at his rapt audience of one. He undid the buttons with careful teases, letting the other watch wide eyes as his bright soul peeked through. He ran his phalanges across his sensitive ribs with a shiver and a small moan, hearing it echoed by his lover. “Eager?” He breathed as he got the shirt off the rest of the way, and moved on to his pants. It was awkward with the pants, what with them being a bit tight. But Sans didn’t seem to mind. His eyes trained only on the furious glow of his pelvis.

 

“What is it you want, Sans?” He crept forward, coming to rest just on his chest, letting the other have a closer look at what seemed to interest him so.

“uhn, Pap…c’mere.”

He shifted himself so that his hips hovered over the other’s face, who was all too willing to take on the task given to him.

 

Papyrus hissed as his hot tongue lapped at his pelvis, and sucked on the raw red magic. “Nnh…” He sighed as he finally received relief to the pain. His magic long overdue to receive attention. Grasping at Sans’ skull as he picked up his pace, Papyrus let him choose what he willed, honestly not caring. Either way he was going to fuck the hell out of him. He ground his hips against his tongue, panting at the wetness.

He shivered as his magic took form, his cock springing to life under the other’s manipulations. “Ah, Sans.” Moaning, he let Sans suck him off, tongue swirling about the head as he loved. He opened his mouth for him, hot breath hitting his length. “F-fuck.” He gripped his skull, and fucked his mouth, lavishing in the tongue that rolled across his base.

If he kept this up he was going to cum.

 

 

Begrudgingly, he moved himself away. “Good…hah, good, Sans.” He panted, trying to let himself calm down before he went ahead with what he’d planned.

Sans licked at his teeth, swiping up his cherry-red precum with a grin. “heh, glad i didn’t _blow_ it.”

He laughed at the stupid pun, before he winced, the motion causing his sensitive member to bob. After catching his breath, he shifted down to Sans’ hips.

 

The bindings on his frame held his hips wide for him, beautiful bridging magic connecting his lower leg bones to his femurs. His cock still stood at attention, though perhaps with a slight lazy slouch.

Papyrus would fix that.

Sans loosed a choking gasp as he grabbed his member, slowly twisting and pulling the softened magic. Papyrus settled down into a crouch, running his tongue along his member, coaxing it back to life. He had grown to love the way he tasted. And, nyeh heh, the way Sans reacted to his tongue was certainly a plus.

Sans moaned loudly, struggling in his bindings, desperate to move in any way he could to ease his pent up magic. “hnnn-ah! P-Pap, ah…i can’t take much more of this. i-i’m serious here.”

He nodded absently, releasing the hardened member from his mouth with a trail of red-tinged dribble. Yeah, this was a lot. But he was proud of him for taking so much. God knows he couldn’t do it.

 

 

With a hum of satisfaction, he pulled Sans’ hips to his lap. Sighing he pressed his head against the other’s entrance. Sans shivered beneath him, so ready for this. So goddamn willing and wanting for him to fuck him. Take him like a goddamn bitch.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

He lined his cock up with the entrance Sans had provided him, his head teasing his entrance. God, hadn’t he had enough teasing already?!

“q-quit teasing, shithead! you’re killing me!” His own cock was so fucking hard from his terrible administrations.

Fuck, at this point he just wanted Papyrus to destroy him.

 

With a grin, Papyrus splayed himself over Sans, and whispered against his skull, “Whatever you say.” He crushed his mouth to his, their teeth scraping as he rammed himself into Sans. Sans’ scream muffled by the invading tongue inside his mouth. He could barely breathe as Papyrus thrust into him like a goddamn battering ram. His tongue merciless as it completely devoured his mouth, not letting him draw breath.

His eyes began to spot at the edges, he couldn’t draw his breath.

The mouth on his laughed against its teeth.

Sans gasped as the tongue withdrew from him, allowing him to draw air once more.

 

Pulling out, Papyrus let himself sit on the floor between Sans’ legs. Before Sans could gain his bearings enough to question, he grabbed him by the ropes about his chest, hauling him to his chest.

Papyrus did not give him much time to collect himself. Gripping his hips tightly, he slammed Sans onto his cock as he thrust upwards.

“ha! ah-a! hnn…” Sans moaned as he struggled in his bonds, desperately wanting to grip onto something as his body was used like a goddamn sex toy. F-fuck! He could do nothing but take it. A wailing moan loosed from his teeth, Papyrus knew all of his spots, and fuck if he wasn’t exploiting all of them. “P-Pap…i-i’m gonna-”

 

The fingers on his sensitive hips scraped at his bone roughly. His voice was heavy with lust against his skull, “No, you won’t. Not until I say, runt.” Papyrus grunted. “You filthy whore. You think you can just cum whenever you fucking want?”

Shit, f-fuck he loved it when he talked to him like that. Sans felt himself speeding to the edge, stars blinking in his vision. “n-no, boss. i’m yours.”

“That’s right. You’re mine, you disgusting slut.” Sans gasped as he felt a thin tentacle slither round the base of his cock and stroke with rolling, languid movements. “Nyeh heh heh. You’re mine, and you’ll cum when I say you can.” Papyrus roughly pulled his chin to his face and brought him into a kiss.

Sans’ mouth was compliant and sloppy, his mind so foggy he could barely contain himself. His eyes glazed over and his breath hitched in his throat as he felt his orgasm roll up to meet him.

He whined at the need to release. God, it felt like an eternity. His cock throbbed so hard as the tentacle continued to rub him, the tip teasing at his slit like he liked.

 

Papyrus still held his jaw captive as he pulled out of the kiss. A strand of red saliva connected them still as he watched every lewd expression Sans made for him.

Sans’ whole body was shaking with need as Papyrus continued to fuck him into oblivion.

“P-Pap. p-please. oh, god, please…Pap, let me cum.” He begged, tears welling in his eyes only to fall moments later. “please, Papyrus. please, let me cum. please. please. let me cum.”

He felt like he was going to explode, his entire body on the verge of collapse.

Yet, Papyrus made him hold off. Sans screamed as the tentacle retracted, only to be placed with Papyrus’ hand. He wrapped his phalanges about his length, tugging on his member in slow, hard strokes.

Sans could barely think straight, his mind flooded with pleasure as Papyrus continued to fuck him and jack him off. He felt like he was filled to the brim with the need to cum, his body tense and his hips shaking miserably. His begging devolved into incomprehensible sounds mixed with strained pants and moans.

 

 

Papyrus grinned as he held his lusting gaze, “Cum for me, love.” The band about his cock came free.

And Sans came. His bones rattled in a symphony of clacks with the force of his orgasm. Hot cum filled his entrance as his lover came within him with a broken grunt. He stroked his cock roughly, milking him for all he was worth as it shot its seed against his ribs in hot, sticky, red ribbons.

 

 

Sans blacked out, the last thing he saw was his lover’s steely red eye.

 

 


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going out of town tomorrow, so posting this early. Enjoy!

 

 

Sans woke with a groan. Goddamnit he ached something awful. Despite the pain, he grinned to himself. Heh, it had been well worth it. Last night had really been something else...

 

With popping joints he shifted around to try and rise to his elbows, only to have a hand light on his back and press him back down.

 

"Don't get up so soon. Just lie back down." 

 

A boney hand joined the other, and Sans sighed as the nimble fingers smoothed over the backs of his ribs through the sheets. He groaned as they worked along his spine, both gentle and rough in their movements.

 

"Nyeh heh...I'm glad to see you awake." Sans shivered as he felt a slight weight press against his back as Papyrus leaned in to place a light clank to the top of his head. "You only lost a fraction of hp, but I was worried you might not feel well when you woke up. I, uh, didn't expect you to pass out like that..." 

 

 

 

Sans shifted around onto his back to look up at the skeleton crouched over him. His ruined eye twitched slightly at the corner, his normally stoic mask broken by the tiny movement.

 

Sans knew that look; Papyrus was worried. "i'm ok, Pap!" He smiled and began to sit up again despite his brother's warning. "just a bit stiff." His grin faltered as his soul gave a tiny pang of ache.

 

 

"I told you to _lie down_." Papyrus scowled as he pushed him back a bit roughly. Sans' eyes widened when Papyrus suddenly grunted in annoyance and threw the covers off him. 

 

Sans flinched from the sudden exposure and curled in on himself. But he soon forgot his fear when Papyrus settled in beside him and pulled the covers back over them.

 

Arms wrapped about him and pulled him close, engulfing him in their lanky embrace. "You never listen to me."

 

Papyrus was fully clothed, all ready for the day. Of course he was. Papyrus was always the first one up and last one to bed. He couldn't believe he hadn't yelled at him, or kicked him out of bed, or called him a lazyass. Papyrus had actually gotten back into bed with him?! Sans blinked incredulously, and tried to smooth over his stunned silence. "y-yeah, i know. heh, i'm a shithead, what are ya gonna do?"

Papyrus huffed and squeezed him. "Haven't figured that out yet. You'll be the first to know when I do."

Sans looked up to see that devilish grin, his socket full of good humor. He grinned back, enjoying the banter. "heh heh! sounds kinky!"

Papyrus rolled his eye at him. "Is that all you think of?"

" _hard_ not to with someone so sexy." Feeling cheeky, Sans ran a hand lower to cup at Papyrus' sacrum.

"SANS!" The other skeleton growled, grabbing the devious appendage and shifting it to a more modest position on his hip.

 

Sans only chuckled, and relented to just cuddling.

 

Clearing his throat, and trying to dissipate his previous outburst, Papyrus mumbled, "This is ridiculous, me being in bed this late. You know it's almost 12, right?"

"nope, didn't know. don't really care though." Sans burrowed himself against his chest, sighing, taking in his smell and warmth.

 

 

After a few moments of quiet, Papyrus spoke, "You're awful clingy right now, Sans." He chuckled. "Are you certain you're not the cuddling type?"

Not even bothering to look up at the surely smug-smile, he mumbled into his sweater, "shut up, dick."

Papyrus sighed and pulled him closer. He clanked a kiss to the top of his head, lingering there to mutter against his skull, "You're such an asshole."

 

 

Sans said nothing more beyond a small laugh as he lie in his arms, just taking in the moment.

 

Their souls mingled gently in their ribs as they lay there together. Individual rhythms synced into one, letting their magic flow between them. It was soothing and warming, a gentle wave that coursed through his bones.

He felt stronger for it, better even.

 

Papyrus trailed his fingers along his spine, magic seeming to tingle from his tips. He absently rubbed the backs of his ribs, his hips, his arms. The touches seeming to soothe the earlier pains away.

 

Sans relaxed into the feeling, and felt his soul hum with happiness. He sank into a mild rest, feeling the safest he'd felt in god only knows how long. No worries were permitted here, everything was fine when Papyrus was close.

He soaked in the feeling, letting everything just drift, letting his mind focus on Papyrus’ scent, the rise and fall of his chest, and the thrum of his soul.

 

He would stay like that forever if he could.

 

 

 

"Feel any better?" Papyrus whispered, bringing Sans back from his warm bliss.

 

Sans shifted to look up at him, yeah, actually, he did. The aches were gone, huh...

A sudden thought hit him. "Pap? did ya use healing magic?"

 

The body beside him huffed out a small chuckle. "Nyeh heh, are you sure you're feeling ok? We don't know how to use healing magic, remember?"

 

 

Normally, he'd agree with him. Though...that night, when he thought Papyrus was dying, when his soul and that of their unborn child had began to crack and split...

His phalanges gripped Papyrus tighter from the memory. It hurt to think about it, even if things had turned out ok.

 

 

They had lived because Sans had healed them.

 

 

He blinked in surprise as he realized this. He hadn't had time to think back on it, but he had, hadn't he? He'd used healing magic! How the hell had he done that?

 

 

"i don't know about that, boss."

 

Papyrus turned to look at him, raising a brow in curiosity. 

"let's try something, ok?" He brought his hand around to grasp at Papyrus', twining their fingers together.

A bright blush crossed his brother's cheekbones, his eye flicking away from the odd, affectionate gesture. "Sure...uh, whatever you want..." 

 

Sans brought his hand up to his mouth and bit down hard on the bone.

 

Papyrus jolted, whipping his head back around to screech, "WHAT THE FUCK, SANS?!"

 

 

 

Bright red marrow beaded from the bite, trailing along to his wrist, where Sans was quick to lap it up before it dripped on anything.

 

Papyrus fumed beside him, his deathly glare burning into his skull. "Why _the hell_ did you do that?!"

 

Sans chuckled, "heh heh, _bloody_ hell, Pap, don't freak out. i said i wanted to try something."

Grumbling, Papyrus settled slightly, though he was still obviously angry.

 

 

Sans focused on the cut, trying to will healing magic forth...

...

...

Well, that didn't work.

 

Impatient, Papyrus snatched back his hand. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

 

"damn, i'm sorry! the fuck are _you_ so pissy about? you bite me all the fucking time!"

 

"Yeah, well...hmph!" Papyrus huffed angrily and got out of bed. He went to the dresser and tossed a pair of clothes at him. "Get dressed, whelp. We're going to Undyne's."

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Papyrus tugged at his sweater collar nervously.

 

 

Sans, Eras, and himself were going to see the Captain of the Guard, Undyne. He needed to get his armor repaired…and try to explain this bizarre predicament. 

Somehow, he had a feeling things might get a bit heated.

Undyne would want to kill the human, or at the very least capture it, and then bring it to King Asgore; who would then kill it.

If Sans was to be trusted, they could not allow that to happen. By whatever means necessary. The implications of this were tremendous, and he might have to take matters into his own hands. He grit his teeth, a tinge of fear flashing through his spine.

If things went bad, he would have to be ready for anything…

Anything…

 

How far was he willing to go?

 

 

A small sound shifted his attention to the child he carried on his hip. He grinned as large sockets turned up to look at him, a little nubby-toothed mouth mimicking his smile back up at him. God, he was cute. Hopefully cute enough to keep things calm between the monsters as they discussed the situation. After trying out the things Sans found at the dump, he was pleased to find that the clothes fit perfectly. Eras sported his new gray on gray onesie, looking like a proper skeleton child.

With a deep, calming exhale, Papyrus straightened himself out. He wasn’t going to let his fear get to him. He couldn’t. He needed to be ready for anything.

 

It wasn't just him anymore.

He had Sans and Eras now.

They were a family, goddamnit!

Yeah, they were a rather...odd...family, but they were _his_ family!

 

He was ready to be insubordinate. He was ready to lie if need be. He was ready to kill at the first sign of threat. All for his family.

So, how far was he willing to go?

Pretty. Fucking. Far.

 

 

Eras looked about in excitement, cooing gently against his shoulder. It was his first time outside. The whole world a giant adventure waiting for him to explore.

It was calming, seeing him so full of wonder and contagious happiness. A still foolish part of him wished they could just forget the whole thing.

Forget about humans.

Forget about all the other monsters.

Forget about the entire Underground.

He just wanted to go and play in the snow with the child, let Eras enjoy the world for what it had to offer. Maybe build snow sculptures as he and Sans once had when they were young…

Papyrus distanced himself from the wishful imaginings. Life was not so simple, and he was not that simple-minded. This was no place for such naivety.

Time was of the essence.

 

 

The human would be arriving tomorrow.

Tomorrow the human would arrive, and walk out of the ruins.

 

 

He shivered at the thought.

A powerful human would come to face them. Images from old human books and from the human history books Undyne was so fond of came to mind. Though Sans said they were a child, they had incredible abilities. They could warp time and shift between the dimensions. They had nearly unlimited power.

And he could not fight them. He couldn’t defend himself if they attacked, he would be forced to retreat and try to keep out of harm’s way. Sans said they were mostly peaceful…but after pressing him on the matter, he told him of the horrors the child caused.

 

He reached up to touch at his throat, almost as if he could feel the slash from beyond time and space. He had died. The Great Papyrus had fallen by their hand, more than once.

Sans had died. In the end, he had tried to stop them. The unlikely hero, come to wreck vengeance for Papyrus’ death. Even though Sans had been brief and modest about his hand in the human’s fate…it filled Papyrus with a terrible sadness to think of it. To think of Sans trying so hard to be the last hope for them all.

 

He blinked out of his trance when Sans grunted next to him as he readjusted the armor in his grasp. Papyrus had made him carry it since he was the one holding Eras. “why do you need this armor? you said you weren’t going to attack the human.”

In the distance he could make out the oddly fish-shaped home of his superior.

“Because, Sans, not everyone is going to be happy about letting a human waltz their way through the underground.”

He could see Sans look up at him in shock out of the corner of his eye. “and we’re going to explain this to Undyne… is that a good idea?”

Sans should have known that this wasn’t going to be a walk in the park. After all, he was the one who asked him to “protect the human”. What exactly did he think that would entail? Unless the human had the incredible ability to befriend everyone they met…this was probably going to be dusty.

“I’d rather try to explain it to her now rather than later. Undyne is a hot-blooded individual and talking about it now while she’s not in the heat of battle is our best bet at keeping our heads on our shoulders.”

Sans winced at the comment, but it got his point across.

This was a very delicate situation.

 

 

He and Undyne were…well, he supposed they were somewhat still friends. As close to friends as one could hope to be in the Underground, anyways. If Undyne were in dire trouble, he absolutely would come to her defense. And he had. He had assisted Undyne on some of her most gruesome battles and most tedious paperwork. As well as saved a few of her dinners from becoming horrible catastrophes. 

How they had ended up cooking spaghetti while mapping out a raid on a rebel encampment he still had no clue. But still, Papyrus had saved the entire house from burning down with his impeccably quick wit.

 

Undyne was a character. But she was tough. She was rough and hardened to the world, despite her infamous grin and laughter. She was a just Captain.

 

 

  

 

Pausing at Undyne’s door, he took a deep breath, grounding himself with the tiny beating soul on his hip, and knocked.

 

This could go one of three ways.

There was a loud clatter from behind the door.

She would either laugh at them.

There was a slew of curses from behind the door

She would agree and help their cause.

Footsteps stomped with enough force to shake the small fish-home from behind the door.

Or, she would dismiss him from his duties for insanity.

 

 

The skeleton brothers looked at each other nervously as silence settled. Maybe they had caught her at a bad time…

Before they could decide on whether to bolt and come back at a later time, the door flung open with a bang against the house. An angry fish-woman appeared in the doorway, glowering at whoever had disrupted her.

“Captain.” Papyrus righted himself into a stiff salute, his fist moving up to his chest as he held himself at attention.

 

 

Undyne’s anger melted away into confusion and then into surprise as she ran her eye over the skeleton family before her. A terrible sharp-toothed grin split her face as she guffawed in boisterous laughter. “HAH! I didn’t honestly think the rumors were true, but I guess I was wrong!” She turned to go inside and with a wave of her hand, she called over her shoulder, “Nobody’s here, Papyrus, you don’t need to be so formal. Come on in!”

Sans shifted the armor in his grasp, looking up at Papyrus for reassurance.

He didn’t have any to give him. Things were seeming to go well enough so far, but with Undyne…well, she was certainly of the more “unpredictable” type.

 

 

As they entered, they could clearly see what it was that had broken from earlier. A coffee mug lie shattered on the kitchen floor, its contents a slowly spreading puddle.

Undyne hollered, “Take a seat! I’m just going to wipe this up real quick.” Sans and Papyrus did as she said, and sat at her kitchen table, waiting for her to finish. Once done, she came over and joined them, a large, fishy smirk on her face as she eyed them in amusement. “Fuck, Papyrus. I can’t believe Sans actually shagged you.”

Sans choked back a laugh, a snicker breaking through his nose before he quickly shut the fuck up from Papyrus’ death-glare.

Papyrus coughed, and tried to smooth over the blunt and embarrassing comment. “Y-yes… It was more or less…a surprise.”

Unable to resist teasing his younger brother, Sans winked at him. “you seemed to enjoy it.”

“SANS, I WILL FUCKING _END YOU_!” Papyrus screeched, slamming his fist on the table in anger. His eye was blazing and cheekbones burning at being degraded in front of his superior.

 

 

Undyne laughed, a hand flying up to cup her forehead. “HAH HAH HAH! Oh my god, Papyrus. I don’t know why you keep him alive…” She turned her attention to the small skeleton with a threatening smirk. “Is it just cause he’s your brother? You know, you could always just ask someone to do it for you.”  

Sans flinched and his sockets went dark from the casual way in which she spoke of his potential demise.

 

Papyrus felt a little better now, seeing Sans get so nervous. About time the asshole got knocked down a notch. Ah, but he didn’t want Undyne to get the wrong idea, either. He cared deeply for Sans, and he would not tolerate harm befalling him.

“Nyeh heh. No, it’s not because he is my brother. Though, maybe he ought to remember…” He reached round and hooked his fingers beneath Sans’ thick sweater neck, pulling out his collar beneath. He brought him close to his skull, taking in those suddenly fearful, red eyes. Grinning wide, he held his gaze. “He’s mine to do with as I please. Aren’t you?”

Sans gulped visibly as he nodded, sweat beading on his skull at the possessive threat.

“And maybe he ought to remember that I could kill him, _if I wanted to_.” Sans breath hitched in his throat as he tightened his grip, Papyrus' grin turning into that wicked, devilish smile of his.

 

“So that’s how it is, huh?” Undyne sounded completely unimpressed by the whole ordeal.

“Yes.” Papyrus deadpanned, and released Sans to leave him flustered in his seat. He had gotten his point across: Sans was off-limits to any kind of harm.

Undyne chuckled and winked at Sans. “Guess you ought to count yourself lucky he’s a big softy.” Papyrus stiffened from her comment, his smile quickly turning into a frown. “Anybody else’d have your dust for pulling what you did.”

“I AM NOT SOFT!” He roared.

The indignity! The Great Papyrus, _soft_?! Hell fucking no!

 

Undyne made a rude sound with her lips. “ _Sure_ you aren’t. If you hadn’t gone into training you’dve been ripped into little smiling shreds, softy.”

 

Papyrus fumed angrily, his cheekbones burning at the slash to his pride.

“HAH HAH! C’MON PAPYRUS, CHILL OUT!” Undyne laughed and leaned across the table to slug the skeleton in the arm. “I know you’re tough. I wouldn’t have made you my right hand if I thought different!”

He smiled despite himself. When they were alone, when they weren’t busy planning and strategizing, when they both go beyond what their protocols allowed…they could be themselves. It was like old times, and Undyne never changed. She was still that rough and rowdy monster that always smiled when they were alone.

It made the moments they shared bittersweet.

 

Papyrus wished they could be friends and “hang out” like the human books often said. He had a feeling they would have a lot of fun. But it just wasn’t possible. With Undyne being Captain, always busy, and not wanting to show favoritism, they had to keep a tight leash on their time together.

He understood. She was a great Captain! He couldn’t think of anyone more suited to the job!

Though…

When they were young they used to be inseparable. While he went into training to protect Sans, Undyne made him want to stay. And she was good for him. She always pushed him to try harder when they sparred, to run that extra lap, to never give up. Training was tough, but they pulled through together. She was his left and he was her right, they watched each other’s backs.

 

 

The Captain of the Guard calmed her laughter and returned his smile. She brought her attention to the child in Papyrus’ lap, seeming to make up her mind on something, she held out her arms. “Here, let me take a look at the little hellspawn.”

 

Papyrus paused, his good mood quickly falling in his chest. His need to be subservient as a soldier to his superior directly conflicted with his overprotective instincts as a caretaker. His bones rattled with the opposing morals. Shit! While he trusted _his life_ with her, a small child was very different! For fuck’s sake, Undyne had nearly burnt her house down cooking spaghetti! WHO CAN IMAGINE HOW SHE’D HANDLE _A CHILD_?  

Undyne raised a brow at his hesitance, her voice lowering. “Something wrong?”

Luckily, Sans came to his rescue. He picked up the kid and handed him off to Undyne. “heh. Papyrus is a bit worn out from everything that’s happened.” He grinned at Undyne, and secretly kicked Papyrus under the table and then looked at him pointedly. “ _huh, boss?_ ”

Shaken from his stupor, he kicked Sans back. “Y-yes! It has been a long couple of days. My apologies, Undyne!” He was thankful for the interjection…that had been rather tough for him. His bones were still lightly clicking nervously from the whole ordeal.

 

 

Satisfied that Papyrus had not purposefully disobeyed, she turned to the wriggling bag of bones in her arms. She held him up by his armpits, allowing him to semi-stand on the table with bouncy legs. With a turn of her head, and a thoughtful hum, she looked him over. “Hmm… What’s their name?” She questioned, her eye trained on the baby as he clacked his teeth at her with burbling baby noises.

“His name’s Eras.” Sans replied as Undyne scooted out from her chair, and brought the baby with her.

“Undyne…?” Papyrus stiffened in his seat, his bones rattling harder as she stood up with him.

She suddenly tossed Eras into the air, making Papyrus leap from his seat so fast he nearly knocked it over.

 

 

Undyne laughed as she caught the child, and then tossed him up again. The baby bones loved it, he giggled and screamed all the while.

Papyrus stood frozen to the spot, realizing that she was not hurting him. He felt Sans place a bony hand on his elbow, and redirect him into his chair. Sans patted his arm, and soothed with a sigh, “calm down, boss. you’re gonna make her distrust us.” They watched as Undyne toyed with the baby, the sight quite humorous. Here was the Captain of the Guard, clad in light armor and scarred to shit as she was, playing with a child. Sans whispered under his breath, barely audible to Papyrus, “since you think we need to tell her about the human, she needs to know we aren’t fucking nuts. and you acting like a paranoid mama-bird isn’t helping.” Sans fixed him with a glare, and Papyrus tried to settle himself.

Though he did not like being referred to as a “paranoid mama-bird”, he knew Sans was right. This was going to be a delicate matter. Taking a few steadying breaths, he got his bones to stop rattling.

 

Breathing heavy, Undyne returned to her seat. Eras grasped at her armor, intrigued by the odd black material. “Hah hah! What a tough little guy!” She beamed at the two skeletons, “He’ll train with me when he is older. He’s got the making of a great soldier, I can tell!” She pointed to her eye, “I’ve got the eye for these things.” With a wide, toothy grin she looked pointedly at Papyrus. “He seems a lot like you, Papyrus.”

Shaken from his previous unease, he felt his soul warm in his chest. Papyrus swelled with pride at the compliment, but before he could comment, Sans broke the conversation.

He picked Papyrus’ armor off the floor and slammed it noisily on the table. “speaking of soldiers and training and shit, here’s Pap’s armor.”

She handed the child back to Papyrus (who perhaps too readily accepted him), and pulled the armor over to examine it.

Bouncing the child on his knee, Papyrus spoke, “Yes, Undyne, my armor has taken…extensive damage.”

“I can see that. Looks like…dog?” She flicked her eye up at him in surprise.

“Yeah.” Papyrus rolled his socket. “Heat.”

“Ah.” Snickering, she cast her eye over to Sans. “Think you did more damage.”

“hell yeah i did!” Sans waggled his brows and grinned, surely enjoying Papyrus’ fury.

“SHUT UP, SANS!” Papyrus kicked him under the table, the smaller skeleton wincing from the sharp kick to his shin, but he remained smiling all the same.

Sans managed a huffed chuckle, and a wink up at his brother. “heh heh! worth it.”

“FUCK YOU!”

“please do.”

Realizing he was only embarrassing himself further, Papyrus sat silent and fumed, anger radiating off him in waves.

 

 

“Ok, ok. I was only playing, Pap!” Undyne laughed at the exchange, shaking her head before turning back to the armor in front of her. As she looked over it thoughtfully, Papyrus began the tough task of telling her about the human.

“Captain, we have…information that the human will be arriving in the Underground by tomorrow.”

She stopped, turning a serpentine eye to him with interest. “Oh? And how is it you know this?”

Papyrus looked to Sans, who shrugged before replying, “it’s a long story, Undyne. it might be a bit difficult to follow and its probably going to sound pretty crazy…”

Undyne crossed her arms over her chest at the challenge. “Try me.”

Sans told her about working under the previous Royal Scientist, she didn’t seem to really buy it. It was a bit hard to imagine the lazy runt doing anything other than snoozing at his post. Sans spoke truthfully save a small white lie in which he told her that he had recently found out the exact date through some old research files. Papyrus could understand why he’d want to leave Gaster out of the equation, but at the same time Sans didn’t seem to be getting through to Undyne.

After Sans had finished, Undyne turned to Papyrus. “You believe this shit?”

He made sure not to hesitate. “Yes.” He held her gaze, he needed to really sell just how much he trusted his brother. “Sans might not be the most capable sentry, but he is very intelligent. And I trust him wholeheartedly in this.”

The monsters sat in silence, letting the conversation sink in.

 

 

Undyne sucked on her teeth and then spoke, “Assuming this is true, we need to be prepared to capture it.”

“this human has…time-warping capabilities. if you upset them they can just “restart” and go back in time.” Sans explained.

With a snort, Undyne shrugged, “Then we kill it.”

“if you kill it, it will restart. you might not know it, but we have tried to kill it many, many times.”

“I find that hard to believe. Anything can be killed.”

“i told you it’d sound crazy.”

“ _Crazy_ is a word for it.”

The two stared each other down, neither one wanting to give in. Until Undyne broke away with a grin and a sigh,

“Fine then.” She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair. “Where can I expect to find this “time-traveling human”?”

“At the-” Papyrus began to speak, but was cut off by Sans.

“we don’t know.”

 

 

The battle-weary fish woman was no fool. She turned to Papyrus, knowing he knew. “Where will the human appear, Papyrus?”

Papyrus shifted in his chair. Sans was eyeing him with a cautious expression, warning him against telling. If he told Undyne then she might try to go after the human herself. If he didn’t tell her…

She’d probably kill him. She was the Captain of the Royal Guard, first and foremost after all.

He swallowed, and repeated what Sans had said, “We don’t know.”

 

 

She roared with laughter, smacking her hand on the table so hard it creaked under her blows. “Hah hah hah! Are you serious Papyrus? Are you betraying me for that worthless excuse of a monster?”

Papyrus kept his tone even, “We don’t know where the human will appear, Captain.”

Her expression darkened, her grin turning wicked. “Fine.”

The air was thick with tension, the baby in his arms wriggled and gripped onto him in fear.

Magic tingled upon his fingertips, a bone attack waiting and ready at the slightest movement from the Captain of the Guard. He gripped Eras tighter to his chest, ready to spring out of the way of Undyne’s signature spear attack.

 

 

But to his surprise, she chuckled and got up from her seat with a shake of her head.

She picked up the armor on the table, and turned to Papyrus, “I’ll start working on this immediately. You should be going back to guard duty soon, right, Papyrus?” Her eye fixed him with a steady look. Her words not so much a question as a command.

“Right away, Captain.”

Undyne nodded, and jerked her chin to the door.

 

 

“You know the way out. Stop by tomorrow morning and it’ll be fixed up good as new."

 

 


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are moving along.
> 
> Here's a [lovely and touching pic](https://kay-sins.tumblr.com/post/144841203369/scene-from-yupimgross-s-fanfic-burden-to-bear) for this chapter by [@kay-sins](https://kay-sins.tumblr.com/)! You might want to look after you read the chapter, however.

 

 

They began their way back home, walking in silence.

Once he felt like Papyrus had had enough time to cool down from the rather odd meeting with Undyne, Sans stated, “that went well.”

“No, it did not.” Papyrus corrected, his voice ominous. “That was very unlike Undyne. She never lets a slight like that go unpunished. I should be dead for such a treasonous act.” He shifted Eras to his other hip. “Something’s fishy.”

Sans choked back the need to point out the pun. Papyrus looked far too concerned at the moment, his red eye staring off in thought.

 

Sans sighed. He wished things weren’t always so crazy and strange. Heh, things had been out of whack for as long as he could remember. Since they were young they’d been on the run, trying to scrape by from one day to the next. The moments that they had both actually been happy were few and far between. So much so that he could count them on a single hand.

It was sad, really.

 

He looked over at Papyrus, watching him mull over the thoughts in his head. Trying to solve yet another puzzle.

The baby bones lie cuddled against his chest, his ribcage aglow with his tiny soul’s light.

 

Warmth spread in his chest when Eras caught his eye, and smiled at him. Heh, the kid was cute as hell. He smiled at seeing the two skeletons together, really taking a moment to look them over. It was pretty incredible how much Eras looked like Papyrus when he was young…ok, aside from his slight chubbiness. That was Sans’ doing for certain.

 

A memory resurfaced, one that he had held onto with great care. He and Papyrus running through the snow, tossing snowballs, making snow angels, building snow sculptures together… It was probably one of his happiest memories. Not a lot else went right in their childhood beyond that glimpse of safety and fun. Or for the rest of their lives for that matter.

 

Huh, it was a bit odd thinking about that memory now. It had been a great time, but, well, he had some pretty amazing new memories. Memories full of gentle kisses, loving caresses, kind words, and the giggling laughter of a small child. He had handfuls of great times! And as he looked over Papyrus and Eras, he realized he could make so many more.

Heh, why not start now?

 

Reaching over, he tapped Papyrus on the elbow.

 

“Hmm?” Papyrus blinked out of his deep thought and looked down at him with a raised brow. “Yes?”

Sans grinned wide and stealthily used his magic to call up a ball of snow from behind the skeleton. “oh, just wanted to ask if you were feeling chilly.”

Papyrus frowned at him, his brow furrowing. “No, I’m not chilly. Why do you ask-?”

Sans sent the ball of snow crashing into the back of Papyrus’ skull, he didn’t even take the time to watch as he turned on his heel and sprinted away, cackling madly.

 

“SANS!”

 

Sans laughed and laughed until he was breathless. He darted into the forest, hiding behind a tree. Covering his mouth with his sweater he tried to stifle his snorts. Oh, man! From the way Papyrus had yelled that must have been a direct hit!

He waited and listened, knowing Papyrus was quite good at sneaking about. He needed to listen closely, he knew he couldn’t be too far behind-

 

An excited coo made him whip his head around to catch Papyrus mid-stride as he stalked towards him. With a surprised gasp, he leapt behind a tree. Sans smiled as he heard Papyrus trying to shush the child from their cover. “Shh! Don’t let him hear us!”

“Shh!” The child mimicked back with a giggle.

 

Sans made his way from his own spot to theirs, careful in his movements. He stooped down and picked up a handful of snow as he leaned in close to the dark bark of the tree. Heh heh, this was too easy-

 

 

“NYEH HEH!” Sans looked up just in time to see Papyrus perched in the branches, Eras laughing along with him.

The older brother didn’t have time to move as Papyrus rustled the branches, a pile of snow falling to envelope Sans in a mini avalanche.

 

“HEH HEH!” Papyrus lighted down next to him as Sans unburied himself from the snow, shaking off the white dust. “You may have won the battle, but the war is mine!” He smiled at him, a rare spark of joy in his socket.

Eras giggled at their silly antics, looking quite excited.

“Nyeh heh, I mean…the war is _ours_!”

 

Sans chuckled, really glad that he had decided to-

His soul stopped in his chest as he saw Eras’ eyes alight. Magic trickled from his sockets in thin smoky trails, his small hands flashing with a maroon glow.

“Pap-!” Sans barely got the name out before snow suddenly flew up and hit him full in the face. Sputtering the snow from his teeth and wiping it free from his sockets, he looked in amazement at the toddler.

 

Eras laughed in Papyrus’ arms, egged on by his father’s booming roar. “NYEH HEH HEH! Sans! H-he got you good! Oh my god, that was great!” Papyrus barely kept a hold of his own laughter as Sans dodged another snow ball, flying forth from the child’s magic.

 

Another snowball flew and smacked him in the arm. He chuckled and cried out in mock pain, “ah! i’m hit! _snow_ more, i surrender! you guys win!”

Eras screamed with laughter at his father’s acting.

Sans fell to his knees, clutching his arm with enough drama to make Mettaton jealous. “i can’t believe i was beaten by a _chilled_!”

 

Papyrus, now fully into the game, chuckled. “Are you _flaking_ out on us, Sans?”

 

He grinned at Papyrus actually engaging him in a battle of puns. When was the last time he had done that? Sans fell back into the snow, throwing a hand over his face. “ _icy_ my life flashing before my eyes!”

 

“ _Cold_ have fooled me.” Papyrus snarked with a laugh.

 

Sans choked and squirmed in the snow, before he let his sockets fall closed and tongue poke out. “bleh.”

 

Papyrus came over at Sans’ final, and ultimately dramatic, death. Sans felt him kneel down beside him in the snow. “Here lies Sans. The Pun-iest of them all.” He clanked his forehead, his voice lowering. “He will be missed.”

 

Sans peeked an eye open at that, and was met with a handful of snow in the face.

 

“Moron.”

 

 

He wiped the stuff from his face and smiled up at the two skeletons. “heh heh! how’d ya like that? huh, little shit?” Eras giggled and made a “gimme” gesture to him. Sans smiled all the wider, taking him from Papyrus. The child batted at his face, trying to wipe stray bits of snow away. “heh, thanks, kid.”

Papyrus looked at them with a warmth to his sockets. Something he wasn’t entirely used to seeing. He looked genuinely happy.

 

Happy…

Huh, was that what this was? Was that what they had now?

 

Happiness didn’t come easy for them, and this seemed too good to be true. Heh, and maybe it was.

Who knew what tomorrow would be like? Who knew what the human child would do? There was no way for Sans to know. And it scared him.

He wanted to hold on to this so hard. He wanted to keep this, stay like this forever. There weren’t a lot of timelines that he felt like this…no, actually, there weren’t _any_ timelines where he’d felt like this. Papyrus was his, and was actually happy to be his. Not to mention that he seemed to really love Sans.

And he certainly never had a kid before, not by anyone. He bounced Eras on his hip, and clanked his skull.

 

 

Papyrus turned from Sans with a lop-sided grin and crouched down into the snow, scooping piles together. He began to pat it into a column and Sans felt his soul sore in his chest.

Was he making a snow sculpture?

 

As if reading his mind, Papyrus called to him. “Sans, are you going to join me, or are you going to just stand there?”

 

Eras patted at his chest and squirmed in his grasp, wanting to do whatever new and fun thing Papyrus was doing. “heh heh, you want to help Papa?”

Papyrus stiffened and blushed at Sans using the pet-name he’d picked out for himself, coughing in embarrassment before he turned his attention to Eras. “Y-yes, here, we’ll make the best snow sculpture! I know it!”

Sans chuckled at causing Papyrus to get so flustered, and came over to set the child down beside him in the snow. He stood by, watching the child toy with the snow, sockets going wide at his ability to mold the white substance.

 

Why couldn’t things just stay this way?

He sighed. He wished the human would just leave them alone. Let them be.

 

His soul wrenched in his chest as he watched his family play in the snow, Eras “helping” Papyrus build whatever it was he was constructing.

Sans wasn’t sure if he could handle resetting. Having all of this torn from him. Waking up to Papyrus kicking him out of bed, angry and bitter at the world. Papyrus forgetting the soft moments that they had together, forgetting the pleasure that Sans could bring him, forgetting that Sans loved him and that he loved Sans.

 

 

“Hey, asshole!”

Sans jumped when a snow ball smacked him dead in the chest.

“Are you going to build something, or what?”

 

 

He blinked back tears, and pushed the sad thoughts aside. Yeah, it was irresponsible to push off such worries. Yeah, he should be afraid. But he’d get to that later, most likely in the dead of the night, unable to sleep due to his nerves.

 

But for the moment, for now, he just wanted to play in the snow.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Papyrus sighed as they finally made it home. They were all quite _chilled to the bone_ , nyeh heh, yes, he just thought of a pun! He chuckled to himself when they got inside. He felt really good, he felt very light and airy. It was a nice change.

A soft snore made him look down at Eras, snuggled against his chest. Probably a good time to set him down for the night. The baby bones was exhausted after all their fun.

 

Fun. Yes, it certainly had been that! He looked over at Sans, a hint of amusement still lingering within his soul from his brother’s tom-foolery.

Sans caught his eye and smiled as he closed the door and locked up for the night. “hey, uh, Pap? do ya want me to get grub started?”

 

Not caring to hide his delight, he responded with a grin. “Go ahead, I’m taking the little guy upstairs.”

 

 

He made his way to the stairs as Sans took off to start dinner, still pondering over the day.

 

When was the last time they had done something like this? Beyond that one time when they were young, he couldn’t recall.

He blinked in realization. Though he and Sans were brothers, they never acted like it.

 

 

But that was because they hadn’t had the liberty of being brothers! Of enjoying each other’s presence! Constantly on the run from bigger, tougher monsters, with no home and nowhere to go…

Eventually they _did_ find a home, a place to settle down and be protected. But even then, they could not be brothers.

Papyrus was forced to be caretaker. He was forced to take on a sterner role. He had to. Sans’ drinking was a drain on the both of them. He joined the guard, not only for the coin, but to get stronger. He was the one that pulled them through.

 

Sans drank in the first place because he had to take care of Papyrus at such a young age. He was stressed and gave up because he had to take on too much responsibility too soon.

Papyrus was mean and cruel to him because it was what he was taught, and it kept them both alive.

Sans lazed around and fought back against Papyrus because he was being pressured further by Papyrus’ actions.

Because Sans fought back, Papyrus pressured him more.

 

And on and on.

Their relationship was a vicious cycle since the very beginning.

 

No room for friendship, no room for fun, no room for any sort love.

 

 

Guilt stabbed through his bones at the thought.

He opened the door to his bedroom. Well, it was _their_ bedroom now. Huh, funny…they’d been sharing the room for a couple days now, hadn’t they? It was a strange thought, one that he hadn’t had time to reflect on.

 

Lying Eras down in the crib Sans had made for him, Papyrus took a moment to watch him sleep.

He watched his chest gently rise and fall, his fingers curl in his sleep…

 

How could something like this just disappear?

 

Trying to imagine this…all of this…gone…

Losing his child, losing his memories of the three of them playing together in the snow, forgetting the love and joy that he felt now…

 

How could that just disappear?

 

 

But, then again, he had apparently forgotten their own father. He still wasn’t certain he was his father, despite the evidence to the contrary.

That’s how bad these resets were, weren’t they?

 

He stiffened in sudden realization.

He wondered…how many times had Sans gone through something like this?

 

Papyrus ran a hand over his skull, the rasping sound of bone on bone grounding him. How many times had Sans felt such happiness? How many times had he felt these things that Papyrus felt, only to have them torn away?

 

 

How many times had they fallen in love?

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Sans hummed to himself, his soul beating with a steady, happy beat. The stovetop kept him warm as he cooked, the smell of hotdogs and starchy noodles in the air.

He couldn’t keep from smiling while he went about the chore. Today had turned out great!

 

The kid had used magic for the first time! And, man, was he a tough little guy! It was a little surprising, but he was proud. It was hard to grab objects like that with magic, and, heh, he sure caught on fast. Sans was just glad that the kid didn’t turn out a runt like him.

And the way he tossed those snow poffs around! Heh heh!

That snowball fight had been the best thing to ever happen to him. They all had been a breathless, laughing mess, so carefree for just a moment.

 

Even if he’d lost the war, seeing Papyrus smile so wide, laughing and making puns with him made it more than worth it!

He giggled to himself as he stirred the noodles in the pot of water, remembering the good-humored banter.

 

This really was the best timeline.

 

 

…And it could all be gone tomorrow.

 

He stopped stirring.

 

His soul, so bright and beating, fell. It was a broken and fragile thing, torn apart from reset after reset, disappointments and tragedies piling to an insurmountable heap. It threatened to break him with every breath, and he fought to hold himself together every waking moment.

The stovetop sizzled, drips of water fizzling out from the heat of the stove.

 

Sans swiped at his sockets with the sleeve of his sweater.

“this is stupid.” He berated himself.

This was stupid, crying over something like this.

 

 

What did it matter, anyways?

 

 

His soul plummeted, a miserable pulse the only sign of its existence.

 

The reset would probably happen. Heh, who was he kidding? It was _going_ to happen. He was down and out. There was no hope.

Sans would wake up tomorrow in his own dirty room, the taste of mustard on his tongue and a killer hangover in his skull. Papyrus would burst in screaming, telling him he was a lazyass and that he was late to work. He’d drag Sans out of bed, and all but throw him out the door into the snow. Luckily, Sans always woke up in his clothes, ready to go for the new timeline.

He’d go to his sentry station, and drink himself till he passed out. Hair of the dog and all that, heh heh. Yeah, it never worked, but he still did it, even when he knew what was going to happen next.

Papyrus would come by, see him asleep or drunk or hungover or he’d be pissed about something, and he’d rough Sans up.

After, Sans would go to Grillby’s, get drunk, and go home.

 

And then the next day.

And then the next day.

And then the next day.

 

Sometimes, Sans would wake up screaming and wailing his pain, only to be put down like a sick dog by his brother.

Sometimes, he’d try to tell Papyrus that he loved him. It always ended badly.

Sometimes, Sans would force him to love him. Those were some of the worst timelines.

Sometimes, he’d just kill Papyrus, try to rid himself of his feelings. Heh, that never worked.

Sometimes, Sans would just kill himself. Though, that just meant another reset.

Sometimes, Sans might even try to show Papyrus the broken time machine, the lab, the picture. But, Sans was a prankster, wasn’t he? Papyrus knew it to be so, and didn’t trust him when he explained.

 

Sans tried all of these things and more. Trying to get his happiness, trying to find the one timeline where he could be free.

 

He tried.

 

Over and over and over and over.

 

 

“it doesn’t matter if it resets.” He said aloud, trying to console the slowly breaking magic. “if it does, Pap- boss, won’t remember…s-so, it’ll be like nothing ever changed! n-no big deal…”

The stovetop sizzled.

“it doesn’t matter…”

 

 

“Yes, it does.”

 

Sans whipped around, nearly knocking the boiling pot off the stove in his haste.

Papyrus rushed forward and grabbed him before he could slip from the stool, pulling him close and reaching behind him to turn off the stove. After, he looked down at him, his eye trained upon his. “Sans, is everything alright?”

 

“y-yeah.” Sans sniffed and tried to not look at him. He knew Papyrus could tell that he’d been crying. He just didn’t want to talk about it. It’d only make him feel worse.

 

Papyrus sighed above him, and Sans gasped as he felt himself be lifted into his arms.

Sinking down into his sweater, he tried to not think too much. Tried to shut out the thoughts and worries in his head. Papyrus was good at reading him, and he didn’t want him to see his fears.

They sat on the couch, Papyrus letting out a grunt of relief as they settled in. He pulled Sans close to his chest, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “Tell me what’s wrong, Sans.” His voice was gentle, but stern. A hand ran along his spine, rubbing warmth into his aching, tired bones.

 

Sans sniffed again, trying hard to not let the cold, dark feelings gnaw at him. Trying to ignore the weight that pressed down on him and made him hurt all over. The memories of failure, of sadness lie on all sides, taunting him.

 

He’d never be happy.

Things would never get better.

What was he thinking, trying to actually fix this?

There was no use.

 

Sans couldn’t do anything right.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t do anything.

 

 

Tears fell from his sockets.

“Pap, i-i can’t do this.” He sobbed and cried, gripping onto his brother tight. “i can’t. i don’t want to lose this. i can’t keep doing this.”

He was so happy. He was so, so happy. And it was just a brief moment in time. A moment like many others, soon to be lost and ultimately forgotten. A dream.

 

Why did he try?

Why did he keep going?

 

“i don’t want to do this anymore!” He wailed into his sweater, the pain of his sadness tearing him up inside like some great, raking claw.

Papyrus held him close, letting him cry. He held him tight and said nothing, just allowing him to let out the demons that prowled his mind, and haunted his soul.

 

They stayed like that for what felt like hours. Finally, Sans began to calm. His sockets burned, unable to cry anymore. His soul ached, the only other feeling besides a crippling emptiness. He sighed into his brother’s tear-soaked sweater, just enjoying the void that had settled over him. It was always better when he didn’t feel shit.

 

Papyrus pressed his teeth to his skull, and sighed. “Sans?”

Exhausted and too numb to care about Papyrus judging him, he answered, “yeah?”

“I want you to keep doing this…for me.”

Sans shook in his arms, his soul quaking his bones.

Papyrus continued, “You’re the strongest monster I know.” He squeezed him tight, the warmth and determination of his soul ensnaring Sans’ tired, hopeless one. “I know you’ve been through a lot.” He clanked his forehead, and Sans looked up in surprise as he felt something wet on the top of his skull.

 

Papyrus was quick to wipe the stray tears away, and cleared his throat. “I-I love you, Sans, and I can’t stand the thought of you giving up.”

 

 

A burning feeling flared up in his chest.

“We’ll figure something out!” Papyrus said suddenly, the soul in his chest going bright. “Well, more likely you’ll figure something out.”

Sans felt his soul lift, warmth spreading through his bones.

“You’re so smart. I know you’ll think of something, and I will be there at your side.”

Magic tingled along his spine, sharp and ferocious and exhilarating.

 

“I believe in you, Sans.”

 

Sans wrapped his arms around Papyrus, and hugged him tight. He craned his neck up and kissed him, feeling that same incredible magic spike in his bones like electricity through copper.

It died out into a dull buzz in his soul, and he sighed as he relaxed back into his arms.

 

 

Feeling a bit better, he shifted on Papyrus’ lap, the hollowness in his chest not quite so encompassing. “thanks, Pap.”

 

Papyrus loosened his embrace, but still held him close. “Are you doing better?”

“yeah, boss.”

“Good.”

A light clank to his skull, eased away more of his sadness, though his fears remained. “i just don’t want this to end.”

“Me neither.” Papyrus paused a few moments, and then continued on, “We need to have a plan.”

“heh, a plan. like what?”

“Well, I know we can’t hurt the human, but maybe we could ambush them? Take them by surprise somehow and bring them here?”

Sans mulled over the thought. “that might scare them and cause them to reset.”

“Oh, I see…” Papyrus trailed off, his brows furrowing in concentration.

 

 

He had met the human near the ruins before. Caught them by surprise before too. But for the most part he kept to the same routine. It seemed like the best way to tell which kind of human they were.

 

You could tell a lot about a person by the way they shook your hand.

And even then, he wasn’t always sure who all the kid might play nice with.

 

 

Throwing Papyrus into the mix might not be a good idea.

He was not the best with humans, and the kid had reset a couple times just from encountering him. Papyrus was scary, and not a very easy opponent to come up against just arriving in the Underground.

 

And then there was what Gaster had told him: _Bring the child._

While he hated the guy, he knew better than to ignore such an ominous statement. Gaster didn’t just do shit. There was always a reason behind whatever he did. He had been a planner, and he almost always seemed to know what would be around the bend.

Eras played some kind of part in all this. Sans didn’t know what, and he didn’t know why, but he was important in this game all the same.

 

 

Sans puzzled and puzzled, trying to pull the pieces together into a whole. No matter how he looked at it, this was going to be tough. This was going to be tricky. This was going to be one hell of a day tomorrow.

Heh, it couldn’t be helped. When had anything ever come easy to them?

 

He looked over at Papyrus, drawing on his strength and willpower. He watched him with that spark in his eye, powerful and steely with concentration.

He really believed in Sans.

Sans reached up to toy with his collar. He believed in Papyrus too, so, guess they were both idiots.

Heh heh, they were two idiots with a snow poff’s chance in hell.

Guess that meant they needed to play it cool.

 

“hey, Pap?”

“Yes?” He cocked his head to the side, curious to hear what plan he might have come up with.

“here’s what we’ll do…”

 

 


	32. Chapter 32

 

 

Papyrus walked alone, worry heavy in his skull.

He didn't like leaving Sans and Eras behind, but he sure as hell didn't want them here with him either. They were safer at home...for now.

 

He trudged on, his bones feeling stiff as he made his way to Undyne's. As much as he didn't want to go, he needed his armor. 

Sans eventually agreed with him, admitting that if things did get bad, Papyrus may be required to defend the human. Gah, defending a human... The thought made his marrow churn. As awful as the deed sounded, he knew it to be true. He must protect them. Though, he preferred to think of it as a necessary evil. He would defend the human in order to keep his family alive.

 

Sans and Eras would wait at home until he got back, and together they would face the human.

 

He didn't want to bring Eras, but after a heated argument on the subject, Sans won out. Gaster had warned them that the child needed to be with them when they went to face the human. Why? He had no fucking clue. It had better be for a good reason, though. The thought of Eras being anywhere the human made his bones rattle. And so, they would bring Eras with them…on one condition. The human was NOT to touch the child. Ever. Not even get close! In fact, Papyrus would be the one to hold him, and make absolutely _certain_ the human kept the hell away.

 

That is...all of this assuming he came back. 

 

 

His soul gave a small pang of apprehension as he walked through Waterfall, drawing closer and closer to Undyne’s house. This could very well be a trap. He could be walking to his doom for all he knew. Undyne was unpredictable in the worst of ways. The way she had acted the other day was only further evidence of her wayward nature. She hadn’t killed him, hadn’t tried to attack him, hadn’t even pressed him on the subject.

Even for someone so tumultuous as the fish monster, her behavior had been strange.

 

Magic tickled at his phalanges, his apprehension sparking through his soul.

He could die this day.

He might not return home.

 

 

Papyrus had already thought of that possibility. And while he hadn't said it to Sans, he knew his brother would know what to do: move on.

Sans would not want to. He would have a hard time…Papyrus knew this.

But he also knew that Sans still would, because Papyrus had made him promise.

 

Last night, as they lay in bed, Papyrus had made Sans promise him something he knew to be difficult. That he knew to be ultimately selfish, but he just couldn't bring himself to feel guilty about it. It wasn’t just the two of them. If Papyrus did not return, the responsibility would fall to Sans. Again he would be burdened with the weight of a life, again he would be forced to fight and flee.

But that was what being a parent entailed.

There was someone that needed them, someone too small and helpless to go without one of his fathers.

Sans was a good father, Papyrus had no doubt in his mind of that. Sans would take good care of Eras if he did not return. It would be hard for him, but Sans was strong…incredibly so.

 

 

"Promise me." He had whispered against his teeth as they lie in the dark. The only light the dim red glow from their souls. "Promise me that you won't give up again."

Sans had shaken in his arms, his soul weak from the fear, worry, and sadness. The pitiful monster had cried until he could shed no more tears, his sockets lined red and drooping with exhaustion.

He had been through so much in his life, and Papyrus could see that now. Sans was tired, broken, and losing hope.

But Papyrus held him close, sharing his strength with him, his will, and his determination. He needed to hear Sans say that he wouldn't stop trying, that he wouldn't stop fighting. It took nearly the whole night for Sans to speak, for him to relent to his gentle kisses and tender words. It took nearly the whole night just to hear him say:

"i promise, Pap."

 

It'd been hard for Sans to make that promise. But he was thankful when he said those words.

 

Their sleepless time together was soft and sweet, neither one knowing what the next day would hold.

And whether things would remain the same.

 

He didn't want to forget.

He couldn't forget.

But Papyrus could not keep himself from forgetting. It was out of his power.

All he could do was try. Protect the human. Fight tooth and nail, to his very last breath. And he would. He would for his family, for his only chance of happiness. And to hell with anyone that stood in his way.

 

Papyrus shook away his distracting thoughts. He needed to focus.

He would be home before he knew it.

And everything would be fine.

 

It had to be.

 

 

 

As Undyne's oddly whimsical house came into view, Papyrus calmed his soul with deep breaths. He took his time, walking a bit slower than normal. He needed to take time to level himself out. He needed to not show any signs of weakness.

 

He was strong.

He was tough.

He was feared.

 

He was The Great Papyrus, and he could do this, goddamnit!

 

 

 

Puffing out his chest, he made his way to Undyne's door, fist raised to knock, when he heard a roaring voice. 

"YEAH, WELL YOU TELL THEM WHAT I TOLD YOU!" 

 

Papyrus stopped and stooped close to the door to listen more closely.

 

"THEY KNEW DAMN WELL THAT I GAVE YOU PERMISSION IN TIMES LIKE THIS! JUST TELL THEM THAT I'LL WRING THEIR FUCKING NECKS IF THEY DON'T DO WHAT I TELL THEM!"

 

Who were "they"? She certainly was raging, they must have done something truly awful.

And this certainly wasn't going to help his case, with her being riled up as she was.

 

"ALPHYS, JUST FUCKING TELL THEM WHAT I SAID! THEY KNOW BETTER THAN TO ARGUE!" The voice growled in anger, and lowered to a snarl. "I have to go, Papyrus will be here soon."

 

 

Papyrus straightened and tried to decide what to do.

 

Should he wait a bit?

No, time is of the essence! He needed to get his armor as quickly as possible!

However, if she was in a bad mood, she might be more likely to become violent. Then again, who knew how long she’d be angry? She sure as hell snapped right out of it yesterday. Or so he thought.

He pinched his brow and sighed. 

Why was everything so difficult?

 

 

Making up his mind, he decided he needed to get his armor and bolt.

He knocked on the door, and not even a minute later it flew open. With his nerves so on edge, he jumped slightly from the violent motion. He tried to recover himself, hiding his nervous demeanor with a stoic expression and a hand to his fist in salute. “Captain!”

 

Undyne stood in the doorway, an enormous grin on her face.

"Hey, at ease, Papyrus! Come on in." She held open the door for him.

 

 

He paused, longer than he should have, but he felt uneasy. 

She was far too happy after such an angry conversation beforehand. Her smile was too large, and it didn't reach her eye. He could have sworn he saw a twitch to that smile as he paused, though he could not be certain of it.

Whether he’d seen it or not, something was fishy indeed.

 

 

Papyrus went inside, feeling his spine tingle from turning his back on the Captain. He pushed down the feeling, not wanting to make her think he was aware of the atmosphere. Spinning on his heel, when he entered, he faced her, putting on a smile of his own. "Undyne! Good to see you! Have you made the necessary repairs to my armor?"

 

Undyne grinned further, the sight making his own cheekbones ache. "Of course I did, numbskull!" She walked over to the kitchen counter, and Papyrus swore she angled herself so that her back was not facing him.

 

Undyne came back over, his armor cradled in her arms.

 

He took it from her, and as their hands touched, he stiffened in shock and Undyne flinched. Someone else was jumpy too, apparently.

Wonder why...

 

 

"Thank you, Undyne." He said with a comraderly grin. He turned the armor in his hands, inspecting her work with feigned admiration. "Fit and ready for battle!" 

 

 

The Captain's smile faltered and fell. She watched him with a curious look to her eye, and an unreadable expression on her face. 

 

Papyrus own grin twitched at the sudden change in her demeanor. Magic tingled on his fingers and his legs tensed, ready to move at the first sign of trouble.

 

With a humorless laugh, and a, "Tch." Undyne went over to her dining room table and sat. "Good." She called out to him with tiredness to her voice. "Put it on and come over here."

 

 

Though he was confused, he did as the Captain asked. Hurriedly, he shrugged off his sweater and replaced it with his trusted black armor. He had a feeling he might be needing it.

 

He hadn't expected this. He had thought for sure Undyne was going to come at him, spear in hand...

But, Undyne just sat at the table, staring off into the distance, waiting for him to come over.

 

He didn't trust this. Not. One. Bit.

 

He sat down across from her, winding his beloved scarf about his neck while she mutely observed him.

 

 

They sat in silence. Neither one wanting to be the first to speak.

 

He was losing his patience. Papyrus didn't have time for this! He didn't have time for these games of silence and words! The human was coming, and he needed to get home.

"Why haven't you tried to kill me?"

 

Undyne barely blinked at the blunt question. She sighed and leaned her forearms onto the table. "Ha, ha...That's why I like you, Papyrus. You're transparent, and you know when to call bullshit." She held him with her piercing gaze, seeing straight through him. 

 

He knew when to call bullshit, huh? Fine then. "What is it you want, Undyne? Anyone else that acted as I had would be dead." He was tired of this beating around the bush.

 

Undyne frowned at the disrespectful way in which he spoke to her, but she still kept her cool. "I want you to listen to me."

 

Papyrus eyed her with cautious curiosity, wary of the edge to her voice. "Well, I'm here, and I'm listening."

 

"You're my best soldier." Undyne said matter-of-factly. "And it'd be a shame to lose you."

 

"Your point?" He growled, anxious for her to continue. There was something to this. He could feel it. The air was practically prickling his bones from the tension.

 

"You've gone soft, Papyrus." Undyne clasped her hands together on the table, her knuckles gripping tightly. Tense. "You've let your brother get to you."

 

 

Papyrus stiffened at the mention of Sans. "He has nothing to do with-"

 

"He has everything to do with it." Undyne interrupted. Her voice lowered, a chilling tone to her voice, "I think it's time to cut the cord, Pap."

 

"What are you saying?" Papyrus matched her tone, deep and growling. 

 

 

Undyne ignored his question, she went on, keeping a steady lock on his eye. "It's better this way, Papyrus. You need to focus on yourself. You're better off-"

 

Papyrus rose from his seat in a flurry, chair screeching on the floor. He didn’t care about insubordination or punishment. He didn’t care about what might happened to him in this moment. He had expected shit to hit the fan when he got here, he just hadn’t thought it’d involve Sans. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU SAYING?!"

 

"Sans needs to die. He's done nothing but drag you down and weaken you-"

 

 

 

Papyrus had heard enough.

He whipped around, throwing his chair to the side with a shrieking clatter. He flew to the door, but just as he reached it a row of magic spears shot up from the threshold. He recoiled quickly, the door barred by the magic.

 

"You'll thank me someday, Papyrus."

 

Turning to face her, a cold sense of calm layered over his soul, his training coming to his aid. He remained cool and collected, his breathing level and calm, though his soul blazed with rage.

"What have you done to Sans?" He asked, magic tingling on his fingers. His ruined socket pulsed with pain from the magic that tried to manifest there, brought fizzling to near-life by the intensity of his soul.

 

Undyne got up from her chair, keeping her eye trained on him. She stood, her fists at her sides clenching and unclenching in anticipation. "The dogs are taking care of him."

 

 

 

"What?" Red light burned to life as his long bone manifested in his palm. His magic blazed, his soul felt likely to burn his ribs to charred bits. "Eras-"

 

"I've ordered them to spare him." Aqua magic lighted his opponent, her perfected spear attack truly daunting as it sprung to life. "The kid's not the one holding you back."

 

 

 

He held her serpentine gaze, trying to call her bluff. "You're lying. Sans is-" Papyrus stated. Sans couldn't be dead. He couldn't be…

 

Unfazed, Undyne replied, "Dead."

 

Papyrus side stepped, slow and cautious, forcing Undyne to mirror his steps.

They circled one another, magic crackling from their soul's weapons.

 

 

 

Papyrus let his magic waft on his phalanges, waiting and ready-

 

Undyne cast a group of spears out at him, but he was quick to react. Bones shot up from the floor at his command, the spears smashing into their lengths with a crackle of magic.

He danced away as more spears flew towards him.

 

Trying to conserve his magic, he raised his long bone and rushed the Captain.

 

Undyne brought up her spear with a grunt, shifting his blows away, only to be met again and again. She was going easy on him. She only engaged him on the defense, for he knew she wasn't putting nearly as much into her attacks as she could.

 

 

 

With a grunt she shoved him away. "Papyrus! Listen to me!" She roared.

 

He paused, though he did not ease. Keeping his weapon ready, he spoke, "What the hell do you want?"

 

 

"I don't want to kill you!" 

Papyrus flinched at her breaking tone. 

"This is for your own good!"

 

He didn't care what she might have to say. She was dead to him. And while he didn't give a fucking damn, he needed to catch her off guard. "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW ABOUT WHAT'S GOOD FOR ME?!" He snapped. She sounded emotional, and he was ready to use that to his advantage.

 

 

Undyne paused, her brow furrowing in frustration. His words had hit their mark. With Undyne distracted by her thoughts, he stepped to the side and she stepped back. Papyrus needed to leave. He needed to get home.

He knew the layout of this building like the back of his hand. Papyrus kept his eye trained on her, mentally mapping out his surroundings.

 

Undyne roared, "CAUSE I FUCKING CARE ABOUT YOU, NUMBSKULL!" She loosed a growling sigh in exasperation. "You’re like a brother to me, Pap!"

 

His magic tingled along his bones at her words, his rage slowing into a smolder.

 

Undyne went on, her spear lowering slightly at his hesitation. "We grew up together! You looking out for me, and me looking out for you! And right now I know you're not thinking clearly! I just want what's best for you!"

 

 

"Nyeh heh...you think you know what's best for me?" His voice dropped into a deep rumble, his ruined socket itching him as he spoke. 

He stepped again. 

She stepped again. 

 

Magic coursing through his bones, he sniffed out a laugh. "Nyeh heh heh! You have _no fucking clue_."

Step and step, he came to a stop.

Smiling, he simply stated, “I love him, Undyne." 

 

 

The confession caught Undyne unaware. She flinched, leaving an open opportunity.

"So, fuck you." He loosed a slew of bones towards her.

 

Not taking the chance to watch his attacks hit, he turned sharp on his heel. Bolting towards the wall behind him, he dove headfirst through the side window.

 

The sound of a fish monster screaming split the night, loud and full of anger.

 

Glass shards and spears whistled through the air as he fell. As soon as he tumbled to the ground he threw himself into a dead sprint.

 

"PAPYRUS GET BACK HERE!" Undyne bellowed behind him, magic spears stabbing dangerously close to either side of him as he ran. Magic erupted from the ground, the only forewarning a dim glow before spears shot up. "YOU'RE DEAD, PAP! DON'T-"

 

Her words faded into the wind as he panted and huffed, jumping, sprinting, and rolling as he dodged, scrambling to get away.

 

 

His bones burned as he ran, he pushed himself as hard as he could go, leaving Undyne and Waterfall in the dust.

He would be home soon.

He would be there.

Sans would be there.

 

 


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to add this chapter as well, because...well, its necessary to the story but I feel that its not really a part of "the story" if that makes any sense. Its needed in order to understand what happens in later chapters, but its not with the main characters, so I'm not going to post it as per-schedule.

 

 

Light filtered down from above.

Groaning, you throw a hand over your face to block out the sun’s rays. Sitting up, you look around, not sure where you are. Far, far above you can just make out the lip of Mount Ebott’s great maw. And now you lie in the belly of the beast.

There would be no climbing back up to the surface. All around you lie darkness, and you bring your sore knees to your chest, afraid.

 

You have nowhere else to go but forward, however. You might as well get a move on.

 

Dazed and confused, your head hurting something terrible, your knees and elbows scraped and aching. You wandered around for what seemed like hours in the dimly lit area, the only light the form of small spotlights of sun from the world above. Finally, after letting your eyes accustom to the deep darkness, you find a structure of sorts: a doorway.

 

What an odd thing to find in the caverns of a mountain!

 

You made your way through, curious and a little afraid, but excited as well. Everything here was so strange and new! Before you lie another structure, it looked more like a house than anything else, though great staircases led up to its entrance. Just before the stairs, red leaves lie piled high, and you couldn’t help yourself.

You plunge into their crunchy depths, smashing and laughing at the sounds of crinkly leaves and the familiar smell of their staleness. A giddiness you hadn’t felt in quite a while sparked inside your chest.

 

After all, the reason you were here in the first place wasn’t a very happy one, was it?

 

 

Aside from the darkness and slight chill to the air, things seemed to be ok here. You followed along the trails, carefully maneuvering your way around a few simple puzzles, and taking the time to pat a very nice dummy with cute button eyes.

Everything thus far had been rather exciting and interesting, nothing too bad had happened…until you came to a harder, much more dangerous puzzle. Rusted spikes poked up from a bridge, the only way across a dark body of water.

You peered over the edge into the tiny lake’s murky depths, and quickly sprung back from the edge, a little scared at what might lurk beneath the water.

 

There was nowhere for you to go.

 

 

The excitement wore off quickly, and you sat down just before the bridge, hunching into yourself. The cold was much more prominent when you weren’t busy on an adventure. The darkness suddenly seemed much more dangerous, too. Small sounds of rustling and scuffling made your heart leap into your throat.

You look back behind you, and feel a chill run up your spine.

There was something there! Just out of your field of vision! A strange shape that you could not piece together stood in the shadows, watching you.

Scrambling up from the floor, you wring your sweater’s cuffs, backing up as far as you could to the dangerous bridge.

 

You were trapped here.

 

 

Shaking in fear, you hunch into your sweater, too afraid to see what approached you.

 

_Scritch._

_Scratch._

_Scritch._

_Scratch._

 

A dangerous monster, coming to eat you!

 

 

“Hey!” A voice calls out.

You peek out from your sweater, and blink in surprise.

 

A yellow flower with a face looked at you with a frown and a curious eye. When they saw you poke your head out a bit more to look, they smiled. “Howdy! My name’s Flowey!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It took some getting used to, having Flowey tag along with you, but he seemed nice enough.

 

He helped you through the puzzles. Apparently he had seen, “the crazy goat monster that lives here” go through the puzzles many times before. He told you that this place was full of angry and hungry monsters, and that they needed to be careful as they made their way along the path.

 

Around and through, back tracking and flip-switching, Flowey directed you through the puzzles. You met a ghost along the way, your first real monster sighting. They were quick to disappear though, not seeming to really care about you. They appeared to only be focused on their music.

This was a strange place, full of stranger inhabitants. A talking flower, a goat monster, and a music-loving ghost...this had been a strange welcome indeed!

The flower named Flowey was your only companion in this venture. He wanted to leave too, his life here threatened to be squashed out by the terrible monsters that called this place home. He lies wrapped about your shoulders, his vines once a bit itchy and annoying, now a great comfort as you face these new dangers together.

 

You come to a juncture in the path, one leading off to the left, the other leading you straight ahead.

“Ok, if you go straight, there will be a door, and if I remember right, we can get a weapon.”

 

A weapon?

 

You give the flower a quizzical look.

Flowey rolls his eyes at you. “Look, you’ve gotten lucky so far. These monsters here are dangerous! You need to be able to defend yourself!”

It makes sense, but at the same time, you haven’t met enough monsters to know if that was true. Though, Flowey had lived here longer than you…

 

Making up your mind, you continue forward and upon seeing the aforementioned door, make your way inside.

 

 

A gentle breeze blows, and you gasp as you see dim lights in the distance.

A city?

A city beneath the mountain?

Your eyes take in the scape, feeling a great sense of awe at the incredible view.

 

A small sound draws your eyes to the side, and you freeze.

There, leaning on the balcony was what you assume to be the “crazy goat monster”. Quiet sounds of crying and little sniffs make your heart ache. She dabbed at her eyes, and blew her nose as she looked out over the city.

You try to ask Flowey if they should go comfort her, but when you turn your head you find that he is not there.

Where did he go?

 

 

The goat woman moves, daintily holding her skirt as she hoists herself up onto the ledge of the balcony.

She sits down on the precarious spot, her legs dangling and dress whipping in the breeze. She cries to herself, loosing a sob of horrible sorrow.

 

What do you do?

Comfort her.

 

You make your way towards her, and tug lightly on the back of her dress.

 

“Oh!” She flinches and turns her head around to look at you. Kind eyes, puffy and red from crying blink in surprise. “Oh, my goodness!” Bunching up her dress she gets off the balcony, standing before you with a blush of embarrassment. “Hello, my child. I am sorry that this is not the best first impression.” She smiles at you warmly, and smoothes the front of her dress. “My name is Toriel.”

You smile up at her, not sure why she is apologizing, and not sure why Flowey called her a “crazy goat monster”. She didn’t seem crazy to you, just very sad and lonely.

 

“My child, you are hurt!” The goat monster gasps, and kneels down to look at your bruises and scrapes. “Here, allow me to heal you!”

A warm paw lights on your shoulder and you feel a tingling sensation in your soul.

“There, you are all healed.” Toriel pats you on the head, and gives your hair a gentle tussle. “Would you like some pie, my child? I have some left over from only this morning.”

You nod in approval, your stomach growling hollowly in hunger.

 

 

Standing, she offers her paw to you.

You take it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

A rasping knock wakes you up.

You yawn at the disturbance and rub your eyes tiredly. Toriel had been very kind and let you stay in a spare child-sized bed for the night.

 

Perhaps you had imagined the knock-

Another, more desperate knocking made for certain that you indeed had heard it.

 

Getting out of bed, you trudge your way tiredly to the door and open it. Right outside the door is a frowning flower, brow scrunched in anger.

 

“We need to leave!” He hissed at you, stretching forward to wrap himself about your shoulders.

You are very, very tired after the long day, but you are also glad to see Flowey again. You yawn and cock your head at him in question, not understanding why it is you need to leave so soon. Toriel was very very nice.

A bit sad, but nice.

She had teared up a little when she saw you in the child’s bedroom, and had to excuse herself for a moment or two, but other than that she was just as kind as a kind human.

If not more so.

 

Yet Flowey seemed persistent. “She is crazy! She could turn on you at any moment. That’s how the monsters here are, one moment they're nice, and then the next!” He ran a leaf across his throat, sticking his tongue out and scrunching his eyes shut.

You fidget with the hem of your sweater, not really liking the idea of leaving, but if monsters were really that dangerous here…

 

 

What do you do?

You decide to leave.

 

 

There was no way of knowing if Toriel was going to keep being nice to you, and you’d rather not find out if what Flowey said was true. You had heard enough old fairytales of monsters to be afraid of being gobbled up in the night as you slept.

 

You make your way down the stairs and down a dark, cold hallway. It is moist and smells of earth, and you pull your sweater closer. You wish you could have stayed warm in bed, your belly full of delicious pie.

Though, what’s done is done. And as you come to the end of the dark hall, a bright flash of light makes you cry out in fear.

 

Firelight blazes to life in the dark, and you blink away the spots in your eyes to see Toriel standing before a large door.

 

“My child, what are you doing out of bed?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

You make your way past the grieving goat monster.

You didn’t like leaving her like that. It made you feel wrong. But Flowey had been insistent that you leave. He said that you promised to take him home, and you were true to your word.

Even if you thought neither of you really had a home to go to.

 

You don't know how far away you are from going back to the surface, but you do know you need to get outside the massive doors. You push open one of the doors, with a little help from Flowey, and peek outside.

 

 

 

Snow is drifting down, the road ahead dark and full of potential dangers.

Flowey must see your fear, for he whispers, "Come on, kid. We're no closer to leaving if you just stand here."

 

He is right.

 

You push the heavy doors open just enough to worm your way through.

The wind is fierce, it's chill biting at your nose and cheeks. You wrap your arms about yourself from the cold, your teeth chattering. 

 

You feel an unexpected tug at your pants and you jump back with a gasp. It is hard to see. It is so dark.

 

Oh? But there! A glow, a small red glow (a pair of eyes?) look up at you from the darkness.

 

"What the-?!" Flowey cries, little friendliness pellets circling you both. "Hey! _Hey_! Back off! I-I'm warning you!" He bluffed, you knew that his pellets were harmless.

 

 

The bluff did not work as whatever had grabbed you inched it's way closer and closer. Terrifying red motes trained on you, probably hungry and ready to gobble you up!

 

 

Although, as you squint your eyes, the shape of the creature reminds you of something familiar...

 

As it draws nearer, and your eyes adjust to the dim light of the cavern, you smile.

 

 

A tiny monster child crawled up to you, the once menacing red glow found to be merely eyes wide with excitement.

It grabs at your leg, and you help it to stand with some help.

 

 

"Don't touch that thing! It could be dangerous!" The flower shouts.

 

 

They don't seem dangerous to you. With its wobbly legs, and chubby hands.

 

You check them for Flowey's sake:

A tiny monster, nothing more than a bundle of bones. They make a funny sound, "Fiss!" at you. Huh, what a silly skeleton child!

 

You smile down at them. They seem nice!

 

 

 

"This is a bad idea." Flowey scolds as he looks around nervously, his petals shaking. "What if their parent comes looking for them?"

 

 

You grab their hands. They are ice cold! Where _were_ their parents? Taking the toddler's hands gently in your own, you walk them along.

 

You'll find their parents together!

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not a reader POV chapter, by the way. I am merely trying to imitate the style of dialogue found in the game. I will never write reader POV shit. Ever.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More amazing fanart! You guys are so talented, omfg.  
> [Papyrus being cute and Preggo](http://washsinmachine.tumblr.com/post/144073137337/im-a-huge-fan-of-yupimgrosss-fic-burden-to) by [@washsinmachine](http://washsinmachine.tumblr.com/)  
> and   
> Check out [this pic for Ch.31](https://kay-sins.tumblr.com/post/144841203369/scene-from-yupimgross-s-fanfic-burden-to-bear)! by [@kay-sins](https://kay-sins.tumblr.com/)

 

 

Sans sighed to himself.

 

This was it.

 

Today was the day.

 

 

He was thankfully shaken from his worry by a babbling toddler. Eras crawled along the floor, exploring and searching for his other father.

Sans laughed to himself. Heh, it might be sick of him to say this, but seeing the kid cry so much over his Papa being gone had been really fucking cute.

The only thing that had calmed the little guy down was the bear he'd found at the dump a while back.

 

Well, it calmed him down at first, but after that the kid didn't seem to want it all that much.

 

He was antsy and fussy, and he'd been a little shit all morning.

Maybe he could tell he was nervous? Sans didn't know. 

 

He pulled on an old jacket, wishing Pap hadn't shredded his favorite one. Sans was a monster that craved tactile comfort, and the rather fluffy hood of his good jacket had been something he loved.

 

Sighing, he brushed his phalanges against his collar, easing his anxieties with its sturdy feel.

It wasn't just the feel of it, but the symbolism it held as well.

Even when Papyrus wasn't near, he still felt his presence, like a threatening shadow that manifested in the form of a collar, warding anyone else away. Sans was his.

It made him feel safer, as fucked up as that was.

 

With a gentle tug to the item, he took a breath to ease his nerves, and checked up on the kid.

Sans smiled and couldn't help the humor he felt at seeing Eras crawl around and around the couch, as if he thought Papyrus might suddenly be around the next bend.

Heh, poor thing. 

 

The little shit was getting to be pretty mobile. Sans watched him crawl around like a champ, legs and arms so much stronger than they had been just the other day. He had tried standing a couple times already, hoisting himself on anything within reach, but he thus far hadn't been able to make it all the way. Though it was enough of a milestone to make Sans keep a close eye on him all day as a consequence. 

 

Apparently, Eras was good at getting into mischief. Heh heh, wonder who he got _that_ from? Sans had caught him trying to climb the stairs, trying to get up on the couch, attempting to levitate various items in the house, trying to eat the pet rock (how the hell had he gotten it in the first place?), the list went on.

 

While keeping the kid out of trouble was exhausting, he found that today it was a welcome distraction. 

 

 

Eras stopped his crawling and eyed the couch with interest. Grabbing onto the seat, he pulled himself into a stand with a grunt. The tiny skeleton peered up over the mysterious edge, as if expecting to find Papyrus there.

 

His father's eyes widened at the feat. He was holding his own!

Look at that! 

Sans moved to go get the little shit, and give him a _standing_ ovation for his efforts, but suddenly Eras plopped back into a sit and sniffed. Apparently the tiny skele's frantic search for his Papa had been fruitless, and he was going to start crying again. 

 

"hey, buddy." Sans soothed as he picked the kid up, rubbing his back and trying to settle him. "it's ok. i miss Papa too."

 

 

Walking about the living room, gently bouncing on his heels as he'd seen Papyrus do, he made his way to the table by the door.

 

He had set a paper and pen out by the "pet rock", and after shifting Eras to his right arm, he began to write. Just a quick note, letting Papyrus know that they were at the Ruins entrance. He would be mad as hell at Sans for lying to him, but he would be able to explain later.

 

 

Last night he had made their plan.

 

Sans had told Papyrus to go get his armor and come home. He had told Papyrus they would then all go to meet the human together.

He had lied, but for good reason.

 

Papyrus could not be there when the human arrived.

He couldn't risk him scaring them.

 

No matter how much he said he'd be good, it didn't matter. His lv was very high, and that in and of itself was intimidating.

 

Papyrus would be mad, but Sans knew this was the only way.

 

 

Finished writing, he went to the door. Hand on the knob, he took a breath.

 

There was no turning back.

There was no giving up.

This was here, this was now.

 

He opened the door and hugged Eras close.

The wind was howling.

 

 

 

Sans and the child made their way to the ruins.

It was pretty cold today, and blustery too. It was almost like the world knew the incredible weight this day held. It kicked and screamed with piercing wind and heavy snow. 

 

 

He knew the way to the crumbling, heavy door by heart. 

 

It loomed before him, normally, it's dark exterior, and stale magical presence brought him comfort. This is one of the few places in the Underground that he found comfort, despite it being the human's segway to potentially dooming them all.

Crunching on the snow as he stepped before it, he gave the door a tiny knock.

 

For old times’ sake.

 

 

The knock rang out hollowly, the sound echoing in the strange calm that always lingered by the door.

Of course, nobody would say "who's there?" today.

 

Eras shifted in his grasp to look up at him, red eyes sparking with worry. Sans sighed to himself, and squeezed Eras tighter. More for his own comfort than the child's. 

 

Who knew what was happening behind that door? Who knew when the human would appear? For all he knew, the lady behind the door could be dead and dust. And the human could lie just inches away, listening to them through the door.

 

 

He shivered. And, no, not from the cold.

 

 

Tentatively he backed away from the door, going to stand near a cluster of bushes instead. Cuddling Eras close, he stood by. They’d wait here for the human. They’d be ready.

…for whatever happened.

Thoughts running a mile a minute in his skull, he tried to think up a solution for every outcome. The human was “good”? Ok, he’d just kiss ass to make them want to not reset. They were ok, but a bit sadistic? Ok, he could deal with that. Let ‘em have their fun, and maybe they’d tire out and calm down.

 

But, if they were like that one…

 

His sockets went dark, the phantom slash to his middle piercing and sharp as the knife that inflicted it. The marrow in his bones churned at the thought.

What would he do?

What could he do?

 

 

A tiny whimper drew him out of his thoughts. He looked down to see his son looking up at him with his big sockets, a small pout on his skull. “Ba?”

He smiled at him, his soul warming. The kid still had trouble saying d’s, most of the time he called Sans “Ba!” instead of Dad. Not like he hadn’t tried to get him to say Dad. In fact, most of the morning he spent trying to get him to just say “ba”.

 

 

Earlier this morning, they had both been perhaps a little too excited by Eras trying to speak.

 

Despite neither of them getting any sleep last night, Papyrus had come rushing down the stairs looking tremendously excited, half dressed and grinning wide. “Sans! Sans, oh my god!” In his arms he held a bewildered and slightly confused child who seemed to not really understand what all the fuss was about. Papyrus beamed at Sans, speaking softly to the child. “Go on, say it again, Eras! Say Papa!”

God, Sans smiled so hard it fucking hurt. Just seeing Papyrus so happy, so goddamn happy. Papyrus coaxed the little guy further, and before long, Sans joined in. “c’mon buddy, let’s hear ya. can ya say Papa for me?”

After taking a quick glance up at Papyrus, Eras batted at his face and said, “Papa?”

 

Papyrus practically keened with his excitement, showering the child with praise. Eras, of course, smiled and said “Papa!” with much more confidence. His fathers gave him love and attention, both letting the moment sweep them up into a swath of comfort.

It felt so fucking right. Just being together like this, just enjoying each other.

 

Of course, it was just a distraction from what must come. Papyrus had to leave for Undyne’s and Sans had to prepare as well.

He spent the morning making sure his magic levels were replenished, and his health was full. Sans also practiced his magic, levitating items of varying weight to get a feel for his power. Though he could not practice too much, or he’d wear himself out.

 

He mostly took time out, resting up to full condition, watching Eras explore, and thinking.

Oh, he did a _lot_ of that.

 

 

Turning his attention back to the skeleton in his arms, Sans nuzzled his smaller skull with a laugh. “not to _baad,_ little sheep! heh heh, don’t worry, _wool_ get the hang of it one day.”

He sighed at the toddler’s grin, taking in his warmth and tiny beating soul against his chest. He hoped Gaster was right. He hoped that this was the right choice.

He didn’t know why having Eras here would help.

Fuck, he didn’t even know if it _would_ help!

 

Eras nuzzled him back, babbling up at him, bleating “Ba! Ba!” at him with great enthusiasm.

 

 

A howl split the air.

Sans flinched at the sound, his soul dropping in his chest. Magic flared to life on his phalanges as he held Eras close.

An answering cry moaned in the chill air, loud despite the roaring winds. The cries were close, their harmonies syncing into one.

 

 

Looking about, he tried to decide what to do. This was probably nothing, but… 

_That was very unlike Undyne...I should be dead for such a treasonous act._

Papyrus' thoughtful look and cautious tone rang in his skull.

 

He cast his sockets down to the kid. Eras blinked as he peered out at the blustering snow, curious of the sounds echoing about them. He thought he saw a glint out of the corner of his eye, but when he looked to the side, all he saw was a bush.

 

 

A bush, huh?

 

 

Carefully he went forward and after fighting some of the low-lying branches, he placed Eras there amongst the sheltering foliage. Sans cast a glance over his shoulder, the howls getting closer.

Taking a breath, he spoke to Eras, who was too busy being the curious little shit he was, feeling the branches rough bark and sharp nettles. “Eras,” He choked, not liking leaving him like this, but…

Barking echoed against the stone ruin door, and his soul leapt into his throat. They were so close.

“stay here, ok, buddy?” He smiled down at the child, trying to sound confident for him. “be good for Daddy, ok?” He gently let the branches rest back over the toddler, protecting him from searching eyes.

Sans quickly grabbed up a nearby fallen branch and brushed away his tracks as he left the hiding spot, walking down the path and away from his child.

 

 

 

It hurt something awful, leaving him there alone.

Though, as he walked along, he spied two figures searching, great puffs of heated breaths snorting from their sniffing noses.

 

Dogs.

 

 


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *INCOHERENT SCREECHING* OH MY GOD I'M SUCH A DUMBASS.  
> I fixed the names. Holy shit, I did an awful job at editing I swear to god.

 

 

The wind blew hard, blisteringly cold snow whipping painfully at his skull as he hurried to get home. Papyrus’ chest heaved, his legs were weary, yet he pushed on. He was almost home. Almost there. Just around the bend.

 

He skidded to a halt once he broke through the thick fog near Waterfall, his soul jumping into his throat.

 

 

Fire blazed, engulfing their home as thick smoke billowed towards the cavern ceiling. As he stood there, he could smell the smoke, though the thick snow had masked it till he had gotten close. The roaring flames burned heartily, obviously it had been allowed to spread for some time now.

 

 

“SANS!” He screamed, his pains forgotten as he rushed to the door of their home. Hissing at the burning pain from grabbing the knob, he retracted his hand. With a roar, he summoned his magic and brought the door exploding outwards.

A crack made him look up.

 

His sockets widened as the balcony awning began to crumble, and he dove into the inferno to avoid the crashing wood and flames.

 

Once inside, he called out into the fire and ashes, “SANS! ERAS! WHERE ARE YOU?!” The heat was near unbearable, his bones felt likely to split from the heat, his marrow aching from the intensity. Yet he pressed on, picking his way through their crumbling home, avoiding the burning couch, the melting television. He made his way to the stairs and cried out in frustration as he saw that they were ablaze.

“SANS! ERAS!” He choked, the heat and smoke making it hard to see and speak.

He looked for anything, anything at all to help him find them, to help him know if they were here or not.

 

He blinked away tears from his eyes as he coughed. Wrapping his scarf about his mouth and nasal aperture, he knew that he had to get out of here or face burning alive.

 

 

As he turned to go out the door, he realized his way was blocked by the debris.

Coughing and hacking, his soul began to grow hot. Panic threatened to take over as he looked about him, nothing but a sea of fire slowly creeping in, turning to ash everything he had worked so hard to achieve.

 

The balcony of their stairs creaked and groaned before falling to the living room with a thud, sending up sparks. Papyrus barely got out of the way in time. The house was collapsing, its charred remains crumbling in on itself.

 

He sprinted through the fire, the blaze licking at his bones and singing his clothes. He burst through the nearest window, landing in a heap in the snow. His bones made the snow fizzle from their heat, the sudden coolness upon their surface both relieving and painful.

 

 

Papyrus turned to watch as their home fell in on itself, creaking and screeching in its dying throes. “Sans.” He whispered, pulling himself from his daze.

 

Standing from the ground, he let the fury in his bones seethe into his soul. Magic burned inside his chest, strong and terrible.

 

 

Without another glance to the house, he made his way to the ruins.

He didn’t know where else to go.

All he did know is that he would find them.

He would find them.

They would be fine.

 

They had better be.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Sans watched the two dogs approach, their ears perked up when they caught sight of him. Maybe this was just them doing a patrol, coming to check up on him…yeah…

 

The two dogs brandished weapons, great axes looking heavy in their paws.

 

He shifted his stance, shoving his hands in his pockets, concealing the red magic that tingled on his phalanges. Sans slouched with a lazy smile, though he remained ready to move at a moment’s notice. Even with them having their weapons drawn, this could still be a misunderstanding. He’d rather not fight. Sans kept his voice even as he called out, “hey! n _ice_ to see you guys!”

 

The dogs pawed their way forward, their tails quite still for having been greeted by someone they knew. While Sans didn’t know a lot of the guard dogs, Papyrus knew them. Hell, Papyrus was their higher up, and he knew damn well that they knew that he was his older brother.

 

The dogs stopped a good ten yards away, eyeing him in a way he was not comfortable with. “heh, i gotta _axe_ ya, what are ya doing here?” He looked pointedly at their weapons, and when their grip tightened and ears twitched, he knew it was not for a good reason.

 

 

They stepped closer, and Sans held his ground.

He wasn’t going to let them get any closer to where Eras was hidden.  He taunted them, trying to get them to speak. “what’s wrong, dogs? cat got your tongue?”

 

“Oh, shut up, sweaty!” The female dog snarled.

Her mate was quick to bark, "By order of the Captain you are to be executed for influencing a soldier. And harboring a human."

 

Sans flinched from the sentence, though he could not seem to wrap his skull around it. "what? influencing a soldier? what the fuck does that even mean?" As soon as he asked the question, something clicked. "wait, are ya talking about Papyrus?"

 

 

The male dog drawled, "You have influenced Papyrus, First Lieutenant of His Highness' Royal Guard, into a state of instability. Because of this, you will...wait a minute..." 

 

The female dog, whom Sans suddenly remembered to be called Dogaressa, turned to her mate. "Dogamy, what is it?"

 

The dog, apparently called Dogamy, suddenly gave a panting, doggy grin and barked with laughter. "Haha! Is that a _collar_ , sweaty? Ha! Who's your master, pup? Let's hear you bark! Hahaha!" 

Dogaressa joined in on his laughter once she saw Sans' article, the two howling with their humor.

 

 

So...the King wanted him dead, huh? Harboring a human, influencing a soldier...heh, yeah, he was fucking dead. These guys meant business. And there was no Papyrus here to defend him.

 

He looked over his shoulder to where Eras was hidden. Hopefully, he was still safe under the bush. Oh god, what if he wandered off? What if another monster found him?

Quickly, he pushed those thoughts aside.

 

The faster he got this over with, the sooner he could get back to his kid.

And these guys were in the way of that.

 

 

Sans grabbed hold of Dogamy's soul with a humorless laugh, surprising the dog monster. "heh heh...i’m not much for barking.” He flicked him to the side, crashing the dog couple together. A pair of startled yips broke the chill air as they fell to a pile in the snow. He gave them his classic grin and shrugged, "but I gotta pretty nasty bite."

 

The dogs were quick to recover, suddenly finding the situation a whole lot less funny.

 

His socket blazed with red magic, fiery and electric, it jolted through his bones. The tips of his phalanges tickled with it, ready to ensnare another soul.

 

 

The hounds were back on their feet, their jaws slathering, noses scrunching, and sharp teeth glinting in the dim light.

 

They growled, low and menacing. 

"That's how this is going to be?"

"You going to try putting up a fight?"

They asked.

 

 

Sans shrugged, giving them a spiteful wink. "heh, quit _dogging_ me and let's get this over with." Using a rush of magic he ensnared their souls and forced them back.

 

 

Sans was fast when he needed to be.

Panting, clouds of heated magic distorted his view as he lashed out with spurts of bones from his hand.

 

Red bones stabbed up from the ground.

Sharp spines of bone that threatened to impale the dogs.

 

The pair was quick to watch each other's back, their chemistry perfectly utilized in their technique. Great axes swung out in harmonized arches, breaking through his offense, and smashing all attempts he made at putting the pressure on them. The dogs bounded forward, their weapons at the ready, tongues lolling from their maws. 

 

Grabbing hold of Dogaressa's soul, he flashed his hand up, sending her yelping as she went flying. He grunted from the drain in his magic, her body heavy and hard to lift far. 

She landed with a crash of metal, whining from the pain of landing on her paws wrong.

 

Magic danced on his fingers, ready to call forth a slew of bones to end her, when Dogamy rushed him with a howling cry. He brought his great axe down, narrowly missing Sans. Dodging out of the way of another attack, Sans flashed more bones into existence, watching them splinter and smash from his enemy's attacks. Sans huffed and puffed, growing tired from the ordeal. 

 

Dogaressa recovered and rejoined her mate at his side, ready to fight despite her limp.

 

 

Goddamnit, Sans could not seem to catch a break.

 

 

With a grunt, he let that same sickening giddiness seep into his soul, the magic overwhelming in its strength.

 

The dogs halted in their advance, gasping in horror at what they saw.

 

He smiled at the dogs, as broken skulls formed, their skewed maws and deformed faces staring down at them.  The very air seemed thick with his magic. It crackled amongst the falling snow, little cracks of magic-induced static creating an otherworldly effect. A hellish sight indeed.

Red magic blazed in the snow, blood red shining in the darkness.

 

Ears laid back, tails tucked between their legs, the two dogs could do no more than whimper at the monstrosity before them.

 “S-Sans? I-Is that-?” Dogaressa stuttered, the grip on her weapon loosening.

 

 

“what dusted Grillbz? yep.” He waved her off and instead gave them a wide grin. Holding up a single digit, Sans raised a brow to them. “now, i’m gonna give ya one chance.”

Bringing that same hand up, his weapons creaked and groaned as their magic built in their skulls. They waited at the ready for his command. Power surged in his bones, the feeling intoxicating in the worst kind of way.

“ya get once chance to get the hell out of here _._ ” He shrugged nonchalantly, his sockets going dark as that sickening humor spread in his chest. “or, you can stay. heh heh heh, no _skin off my bones._ ”

 

 

One of the dogs whined, the smell of piss on the air. Not a moment later, they turned tail and fled for their lives.

 

 

Sans stood waiting, watching to see if they were really gone.

 

Once he was sure they weren’t coming back, he released his hold on his magic. The blasters’ magic died away as they faded back into non-existence.

He sighed heavily as the feeling of strength ebbed away, returning him back to his same old, weak self.

 

Alright, now he needed to go get Eras-

 

 

"Hey, trashbag!"

 

 

Sans whipped around at the unfamiliar voice. His sockets burned bright with his magic as he turned, ready to dish out an ass-whooping-

His anger fizzled out, his magic dying just as fast.

 

Before him stood a dirty, roughed-up human child and a flower with a face.

 

"What the heck kind of person leaves a baby to wander around on their own?" The flower snarled at him with a frown.

 

Eras clung to the human's sleeve, shakily standing at their side to grin up at Sans.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol. See how you guys shouldn't freak out so much? ;3


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at this [super cute fanart of the edge family](http://anartiststale.tumblr.com/post/145335791152/eras-dem-bois-from-burden-to-bear-by)! by [@anartiststale](http://anartiststale.tumblr.com/)

 

 

Sweat beaded on Sans' brow despite the chill in the air.

W-was the human holding Eras?

 

The human brat was smiling at him. That same, seemingly innocent smile. He'd seen it thousands of times: at Grillby's, at his sentry, at home...and behind the glint of a knife.

He shivered and felt his marrow churn. The brat was touching Eras, holding his little hands. Oh, god, the human could've killed him!

 

The human still could. 

 

And he couldn't hurt them. He couldn't risk making them reset! What could he do?!

Taking a careful couple of steps forward, he shakily reached out to his child. "c-c'mere, Eras!" It was all he could do.

He prayed to whatever beings he could think of, hoping beyond a hope that things would work out...just this once. After all the blood, after all the pain, the sadness, the maddening rage... Please. Please, don't let the human hurt him.

 

He'd rather die a thousand times more than see his child die.

 

"E-Eras, please, c'mere." His voice shook, the strain of his tone making the toddler pinch his brow in worry as he turned to focus on his father.

 

After a pause, the baby bones released his grip on the human and began to walk to Sans.

 

While everything was crazy and terrifying and uncertain, he couldn't help the way his soul soared in his chest. He was walking! Oh, if Pap was here-

He shook the thought from his head. This was no time to get emotional. While the human was playing nice so far, he wanted to get Eras back in his arms and out of harm's way. Eras was almost to him, almost close enough to snatch him back. "come on! come to Dad, lil guy!"

 

 

"DAD?!" The flower monster balked, looking positively shocked.

 

 

Eras startled from the loud shout and lost his balance. He would have plopped into the snow had Sans not bolted forward to scoop him up. The baby bones back in safety, he retreated a couple paces away from the strange pair of creatures before him. Sans raised a brow to the flower and gave him a cautious glare. "yeah, i'm his dad. what's it to ya?"

 

The flower, shaken from his surprise, cocked his head to the side. "You just don't seem like the "friendly with kids" type."

 

Sans' sockets narrowed at the statement. Memories of long hallways, flashes of light, and red spatters on the floor foremost in his mind.

The flower couldn't possibly know about that though.

 

He shrugged in response and grinned. "heh, you've gotta be _kidding_ me! being a dad is _child's play_! heh heh heh!"

The human snickered at his puns, and Sans smiled. Mostly, only the nice ones laughed.

Only one final test to know for certain what _kind_ of nice human they were. Rummaging his hand in his pocket, he got his little trick ready.

 

 

Shifting Eras to his hip, he reached out his hand. "don't ya know how to greet a new friend, brat? put 'er there!"

Not quite like his routine, but hopefully this would suffice.

 

 

Ignoring the flower angrily whispering in their ear, the human reached out and shook his hand.

 

 

A loud, rude sound echoed in the otherwise silent wood.

Sans watched the human's reaction. Their brows shot up in surprise, their eyes going wide, and mouth gasping before it curled into a smile. 

 

Huh, he had never seen that reaction before. The human looked so surprised and…actually amused...had they never reset? Did they not recognize him? Did they not remember his little prank?

 

"heh heh, the old whoopie cushion in the hand trick. it's _always_ funny." Despite his uncertainties, he couldn't help but laugh as the human giggled. Eras laughed along with them, and Sans felt a whole lot better. 

 

This human might be ok...

 

 

"Ha. Ha. _Very_ funny." Their bubble of ease popped as the flower piped up. "Now, listen, trashbag, we don't want any trouble, alright?"

 

Sans flicked his eyes to the human, trying to piece apart what it is they might be thinking. Looking back to the flower, he chuckled humorlessly in his throat. "heh heh, neither do we." He hefted Eras to his other hip pointedly, the little guy watching their exchange with curious eyes.

 

 

The human patted the flower on the head to try to soothe his anger. The flower's expression soured from the gesture, but otherwise he said nothing beyond a grumble under his breath. 

 

Moving forward, the human took Sans' empty hand in their own, giving him a kind smile.

 

He blinked in surprise, but smiled back. "i gotta _hand_ it to ya, kid...i'm really glad to meet ya."

 

A gentle squeeze to his hand, followed by a shy whisper made him lean in to listen to their soft voice, "What's your name?" They asked.

 

Ignoring the tension in his bones at being so close to the human, Sans gave them his signature shit-eating grin. "i'm Sans. Sans the skeleton."

 

 

This human was different.

And he was liking them so far.

 

But that didn't mean they were safe.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sans, Eras, the brat, and the asshole flower walked along the path.

 

He was holding their hand in his own still. It was unnerving, but at the same time, he didn't want to upset them by letting go.

 

Sweat poured on his skull, the hand the human held tingled as if it were crawling with bugs. It was odd, walking so close, being so chummy-chummy with them. 

 

 

The brat sneezed, and when he cocked his head to better look at them, he realized they were shaking.

Now that he thought about it, the hand in his own was very cool. He was pretty sure humans were supposed to be warm...right? Or hot? Or something?

 

Well, whatever they were supposed to be, this one looked worse for wear and very cold.

 

 

 

"hey, brat."

The human looked up at him with a tiny smile, sniffling and knees knocking. 

"are ya cold?"

 

The flower perked up at the human's silence, and looked over them with sudden shock and fear. "H-hey, Frisk, are you alright?"

 

Sans squeezed their hand, and shook them sternly. "hey...Frisk...that your name? c'mon, i'll take you to our place." The human only nodded, looking strangely sleepy and positively miserable.

He almost felt bad for them.

 

 

A blizzard had swelled in the caverns of the Underground, sharp wind and bitter cold to those with flesh. Hell, it was biting to those that didn't!

He felt the chill in his bones, his marrow a bit sluggish, but it was harder to freeze magic than blood. Skeletons were a bit hardier to the cold than most.

 

The brat though...

They didn't look like they could hold out. What with their shorts and thin sweater. Rolling his eyes, he groaned. God, he was really gonna have to do this? With another groan, he shrugged out of his thick jacket and held it out to the human. "here, brat."

 

They sniffled up at him, as if uncertain, but after he wriggled it in front of them impatiently they took it. The jacket was a bit big on them, though at least it helped to cover their legs up a bit. They still looked cold too, but they didn't look like a human-sicle at least.

 

The asshole flower frowned at the garment, and raised a brow to Sans. "That was awful nice of you..."

 

Sans raised a brow back, trying to ignore the now more prominent chill in his bones. "do i _know_ you?"

 

"Probably not." The flower shrugged. 

 

"oh, yeah?" He snarled. "well ya sure _act_ like you know me! what's your name, chump?"

 

Sniffing in indignation, the flower rolled his eyes. "Not that it matters, but my name's Flowey. Flowey the flower."

 

 

 

Flowey the flower. What a stupidass name. "hmph, would say it's a pleasure, _Flowey_...but, that'd be a _cold_ -faced lie! heh heh!"

 

Flowey grit his teeth in anger, but before he could say anything, a long, low howl made them all freeze.

 

 

 

An answering howl sprang up close by, the two calling out to one another from within the veil of snow.

 

Sans held Eras close. The human brat pressed up against him, shivering with cold and probably a hint of unease.

"Wolves?" Flowey questioned, eyes darting to the barely visible tree line.

 A last, resounding howl made them all jump, short and rasping, it was close.

"no," Sans answered. "dogs." 

 

 

 

 

Sure enough, from the surrounding woods, dogs appeared, weapons ready and noses twitching. The three dogs made their way through the snow, picking their way forth to block their path. 

Though he was wary of them, Sans wasn't surprised to see them. He kinda figured the rest were going to show up. The dogs tended to stay together. Pack mindset and all that shit, he guessed.

 

 

 

"Ah, I thought I smelled sweaty." A gruff canine barked. Sans knew this dog was Doggo. The dull light of his smoking bone lit his face, a smirk turning up the side of his maw. "You were a little hard to sniff out, runt. You take a break from mustard or something?"

 

"heh, i quit that shit." He answered back. Sans placed himself in front of the human, trying to block them from the pack's view. Though, more than likely they smelled them already. "still taking to those bones, i see."

 

 

Doggo laughed dryly. "Keeps me out of trouble. Maybe you should've done the same."

 

His two companions, dogs Sans knew as Lesser Dog and Greater Dog, gave big canine smiles when they got close enough to see the small gathering. Slobber dribbled from the big dog's mouth as he whined in excitement, huge tail wagging in anticipation.

 

Sans shrugged and smiled. "aw, c'mon. if it wasn't for me, you guys would hardly have a job."

 

Doggo sniffed. "Huh, that isn't too far from the truth." Taking a final drag from his bone, he loosed the stinking smoke in a large sigh before flicking the butt into the snow. "Well, hopefully after this, our jobs will be a lot easier. I smell that Dogamy and Dogaressa were here not too long ago." He cocked his head to the side, a frown on his muzzle. "I don't smell any dust, just stinking piss and fear. So, I'm guessing they bailed?"

 

"yeah. maybe you ought to do the same." Sans threatened.

 

The canine flinched in surprise before flashing him a grin. "Ha! Not gonna happen, sweaty." He turned to the hounds at his side, barking out something in their canid tongue. 

The dogs moved to either side, making to hold him in a crosshair. 

 

 

Looking back at the human, he made a tough decision. "here, take Eras for me." He handed off the toddler to Frisk, who took him gently. They looked up at Sans in confusion, but he quickly whispered, "you just stay behind me, ok, brat?" 

 

Though confused and worried, they nodded.

 

It was as good as he was going to get. Taking a steadying breath, he turned his full attention to the dogs that drew close and came to stop a few paces away. "three on one? awful brave of ya, ya _dirty dogs_." He snarled.

 

"I saw what you did to Grillby, sweaty." Doggo held his short swords at the ready, eyeing Sans, searching for movement. "Three should even the playing field."

 

 

 

A hand gripped onto the back of his shirt as the human whimpered, and a panicked flower spoke, "H-hey, trashbag! Quit yakking, there's a dog!"

 

He whipped around to see Lesser Dog making his way forward from the side, taking advantage of Sans' distraction. "fuck off, pal!" Sans growled as he sent out a herald of bones.

 

Lesser dog was quick to dodge the attack, and jumped back and away from Sans and his little group.

 

 

 

That had been close. Doggo stood frowning, his ears laid back in annoyance.

This guy had _planned_ on Sans getting caught up like that, hadn't he? He knew Sans had a big mouth. Sans knew he did. Everybody knew he did. And this motherfucker had fucking tried to use that against him, _hadn't he_?

 

He needed to focus. 

This guy Doggo was a, heh heh, "big dog" in the Royal Guard. Papyrus had talked about him a few times. Apparently the guy was the runner-up for Lieutenant of the Guard.

Doggo was fast, sly, and deadly. And he was not to be underestimated.

 

 

Keeping an eye on the pack before him, Sans whispered over his shoulder to the little group, "listen, i'm gonna make a...cage-looking thing to protect you guys, ok? it might look a little scary, but it'll protect you, ok?"

 

Flowey whispered back, "What are you planning on doing?"

 

Sans shrugged and laughed nervously. "heh heh. i don't exactly have any _plants_ , but i'm gonna do what I have to." After a pause, he added, "Flowey, don't let the kids watch this."

 

Sans was sure the flower wanted to say more, but he didn't have time. The dogs were barking to each other in their own tongue, obviously making plans of their own.

He turned abruptly to face Frisk, Flowey, and Eras, then commanded his bone attack from the ground.

 

He grunted with the drain to his magic, but the protective bones were in place. They surrounded the group, red magic guarding them against attack.

It would have to do.

 

No sooner had he whipped back around then he met a dog nearly face to face.

 

 

Teleporting a few feet away, he narrowly avoided the great spear that came crashing down where he had once stood. The enormous dog that wielded said weapon whined sadly at missing his target, and bounded forward.

Sans sidestepped, and stepped once more as Lesser Dog came rushing at him, brandishing his sword. He cast bones out at him, to which he raised his shield, the attack deflecting harmlessly away.

 

Gasping, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. With hardly a moment to spare, he skirted the razor’s edge of death, a short sword thankfully catching his shirt and nothing more. Twisting away, he tried to keep up. Greater Dog came back in for another try, his spear grasped in both hands. Lesser Dog held his shield out before him, sword ready to shiv him. Doggo watched him with careful eyes, taking in every small movement, every breath.

 

Sweat beaded his brow as he dodged and parried, as he tried to land hit after hit.

He made only a few purchases, his attention too focused on preserving himself as opposed to attacking. One slip and he’d be dead. If he died, his magic would vanish. And then…Eras…

 

He tried to fight back.

But he could not. Every time he readied an attack, he was forced to retreat, to get away from onslaught.

In between the fight from earlier, his lack of sleep, and his constant need to keep moving, he began to tire.

 

 

Sans shook with exhaustion, sweat dripping from his skull.

 

The dogs drew close, their weapons ready.

Doggo regarded him carefully, panting from the exertion. He growled something to his companions, and they drew forward.

 

His magic low, he could do nothing. Huffing, he looked over to where his child watched behind the slowly crumbling magic barrier he had made.

Sans felt tears prick at his sockets, his failure weighing heavily on him.

“i’m sorry.”

 

 

 

"Papa!"

 

 

“Papyrus?” Sans blinked in surprise as Papyrus was suddenly before him, shielding him with his body, long bone burning at his hip. His signature red scarf whipped out in the wind, snow flurrying about his frame as magic trailed from his socket.

Fuck he looked cool.

 

“ _BACK OFF, FUCKERS!_ ” Papyrus roared, his breath heavy.

 

Doggo stopped, and his pack mates followed his lead, looking to him for orders. “Nice to see you again, bones.”

 

“Cut the shit.” Papyrus’ hands clenched on his weapon, his fingers digging into the magic. “Stand the fuck down, you cunts. I’m fine. Sans has done nothing to harm me, and I’m as sane as I’ve ever been.”

Sans drew closer to Papyrus, hugging him round the waist and burying his head against his spine.

 

 

The younger skeleton ignored him. He looked out at the dogs before him, and called out. “Undyne has made a mistake. I _order_ you to stand down, or I’ll kill you all.”

The two Dogs looked to each other worriedly, but a swift snarl from Doggo brought them back to attention. He turned to Papyrus, and grinned, “Hah, oh, bones…” The dog grinned wide, yellowed teeth glinting from Papyrus’ magic. “We’re not under your command anymore.”

Papyrus said nothing. He simply stood, eye trained on the pack.

Doggo continued, “You’re a traitor, bones.” He thumbed the hilts of his swords, shifting in anticipation. “And you know what happens to traitors.”

 

 

 

Flowey suddenly piped up, sounding terrified. “W-wait! You’re not really going to…?”

Papyrus, previously oblivious to the small audience behind them, cast a quick glance over his shoulder before turning his attention back to the dog pack. He growled, “The human is holding Eras.”

“Pap, i’m sorry.” Sans cringed from the anger he felt coming off him in waves. “there wasn’t a lot i could do…i-i…”

Papyrus glanced down to catch his eye briefly. “Sans,” He whispered under his breath, the wind nearly taking his words away. “Get Eras, and go.”

 

Sans flinched and held onto Papyrus tighter. “b-boss…i don’t want to leave you-”

“Do _not_ disobey me.” He hissed.

Though the comment bit, the feeling of soft warm fabric loosely wrapping about his throat soothed his words. Sans gripped at Papyrus’ favorite scarf, now draped about his shoulders.

“Go.” Papyrus commanded and said no more.

 

 

Sans made his way to where the human, Flowey, and Eras stood waiting, the magic that once protected them already gone. Taking Eras back, he grabbed the brat by the hand and hurriedly walked them down the path.

“Papa?” Eras called over his shoulder, squirming in his arms. “Papa!”

 

 

Sans did not look back. He focused on the scent lingering on the scarf about his neck. The red, tattered cloth whipped in the wind, terrible memories of loss making the moment all the more bitter.

Eras sobbed and cried as they left Papyrus to the dogs, not understanding.

But Sans understood. And right now, he needed to get Eras and the brat out of here.

 

 


	37. Chapter 37

 

 

Eras had finally quieted down, exhausted from crying. "Pa..." He sighed sadly against Sans' chest.

Sans felt terrible leaving Papyrus as he had, but he knew he would be ok. He was strong, and though he knew his brother was out of practice he should be fine!

 

No, he _would_ be fine!

Yeah...

 

Gripping the scarf about his neck tight, he shoved any lingering thoughts from his skull and walked on ahead. He tugged along the human brat and asshole of a flower, wanting to hurry things along as fast as he could. The flower said that neither of them wanted trouble, but he knew the human couldn't be trusted. He had been through plenty of timelines where they had been good and then turned around and backstabbed monsters. While he was fairly neutral to the timelines that didn't involve Papyrus, he didn't like the fact that the kid was so unpredictable. 

 

Eras suddenly squirmed in his grasp, and Sans huffed as he readjusted him in his grip. The kid was a lot heavier than just a couple days ago, and it was getting harder for Sans to carry him. "c'mon, squirt, calm down. you're making this harder for me."

 

But still the child would not settle, he whined and kicked in his grasp. Eras' sounds of heightening distress made Sans stop in his tracks. Sans put him down, letting him sit in the snow, not sure what else to do with him. Papyrus was better at these kinds of things than him. Sans knew he missed Papyrus, but there was nothing he could do about that. "hey, it's ok, kid. Papa will be back before you know it." He crouched down and wiped the tears off his skull with a frayed end of Pap's well-loved scarf, and after a moment's thought, took it off and wrapped it about Eras. 

 

A small smile tugged at his teeth as he realized how much he looked like Papyrus when he was younger. His big, red eyes full of energy no matter how tired or upset he was. Sharp cheekbones only making his whiny pouts all the more prominent. His scarf far too big for him, but determined to grow into it one day. 

 

Heh, he had been just as fussy too.

 

The scarf had helped tremendously. The toddler nuzzled the fabric, feeling it between his fingers in mild curiosity. Eras sniveled lamely as he gripped the soft scarf tighter, looking tired. He hiccupped as he continued to quietly cry, looking off at something or other.

 

 

"Geez, trashbag, can't you get him to calm down?" Flowey snarled.

 

There he goes, being a fucking dickhead again. Sans was tired of his shit, and snapped at him, "shut the fuck up, asshole-"

 

"Da."

His voice died in his throat as he heard Eras speak. 

 

Eras had said "Pa" and "Papa" before, but never had he been able to say dad. "Ba", yeah, Eras could bleat with the best of the herd...but Da?! 

 

Sans smiled an excited, yet nervous smile. Getting on his knees in the snow, he spoke, "hey, d-did you say, Da? D-dad? can you say Dad?"

 

"D-dat." Eras clacked up at him, mimicking his happy smile back as he calmed down.

 

"heh heh! close enough, babbler."

 

 

Eras turned his head to the side suddenly, as if startled. 

 

 

Sans cocked his head at the bizarre motion. "hey, Eras." What was he looking at?

 

Ignoring him, the toddler babbled quietly to the air. 

 

There was nothing there as far as Sans could tell. What the fuck? "Eras!" He called him probably louder than he should have, but the kid was starting to freak him out. What the hell was he looking at?

 

The child quickly looked back at him from hearing the strain in his voice. "Da...da dadada." He gurgled out noises, trying to imitate speech.

 

Sans would have laughed at how silly and cute it was, if it weren't for what happened next. His sockets fixed on the small skeleton as he made an "L" with his thumb and finger and moved his hand in a counterclockwise motion.

 

The human cocked their head to the side and tugged on Sans’ sweater in question. The asshole flower that they carried asked the question for them, "What's he doing?"

 

 

 

Though shaky and inexperienced, there was no mistaking the motion for anything other than the language of hands.

 

 **Library**.

 

He was saying "library".

 

Sans choked on his own breath. "w-where the fuck did you learn that..." He watched as Eras continued to sign the word "library" over and over gaining more fluidity as he repeated it.

 

 

 

Sans looked around in fury, as if he might find a ghost of an answer. "where did you learn that..." He repeated, half to himself, sweat beading on his brow.

 

 

The child seemed to focus on a point behind Sans. His mouth clacking absently as he sloppily placed his thumb to his forehead, little splayed fingers pointing up. He then brought the hand away from his skull with purpose.

 

 **Grandpa**.

 

 

 

 

Sans snatched the child up and ran to the library, not caring if the brat and flower kept up. 

Why the hell would Gaster want them to go to the library? What the fuck could he possibly want with them? 

 

AND WHY WAS THAT FUCKER SCREWING WITH HIS KID?!

 

 

 

Questions upon questions sparked in his skull as he made his way to the wooden doors and slammed them open. 

The librarian inside startled, crying out and slipping from the stool he previously perched on at the front counter. Dazed, he leapt up to greet them, sounding both surprised and confused, "H-hello! Welcome to the library..." He trailed off as he took in the familiar skeletons. "Oh, it's you!" He smiled widely before tilting his head to the human and flower. "And you brought friends? How nice!"

 

Sans grimaced at the too-nice quip as he looked around the library. Setting Eras down on the floor, he turned to the librarian and said, "could ya watch Eras for me? i'm gonna browse."

 

The librarian was quick to say, "Oh, of course!" As Sans knew he would.

 

Without another word, Sans left to go search the books.

 

 

There had to be a reason.

There had to be.

 

 

Gaster didn't just _do_ shit.

He was a planner.

And he seemed to love being cryptic.

 

 

 

Sans tore through the books, searching and searching. Why have them come in here? What was it he needed to find?

He just didn't know.

 

His soul pounded in his ribs, his breath becoming a wheeze. Fuck, why had he left Papyrus? He hadn’t trained in days! He was still recovering from that horrible birth. He couldn’t possibly be ok to fight!

Sweat poured down his skull, his hands fluttering with shakes.

He left Eras alone with the human, a flower, and a monster he didn’t even know the name of. Shit, what was he thinking?! Was he ok?

 

Inching to the corner of the shelf, he peeked around.

He was fine. The librarian appeared to be reading Eras, the human, and Flowey a story.

Yet, even seeing him safe did not calm the horrific, sickening fear in his soul.

 

Oh, god. He was losing it. He was fucking losing it.

 

His skull was swimming with too many thoughts. Too many worries. Too many fears. The marrow in his bones churned and squirmed as if maggots wriggled within. Reaching up a hand, he ran it across his skull, the sound always pleasing. Leaning against a shelf, he let himself sink to the floor, curling up for a moment to try and compose himself. The breaths he took sent rattles through his frame, his tired soul wracked from the strain.

He couldn’t freak out. Not now. Not in front of his fucking kid.

The fingers against his skull became more frantic in their need to try to calm him, the light rasp becoming a scratching claw. Breath coming in shallow bursts, he could not seem to catch his breath, he could not seem to keep himself grounded. The phalanges on his skull began to hurt.

Tearing his hand away from his skull, he instead fiddled with his collar. The smooth texture, the weight, the tiny clink of metal upon metal brought him down just a bit.

 

He gasped hard, hugging his knees to his chest. He couldn’t freak out. He couldn’t freak out. Eras was depending on him. Papyrus needed him. They both needed him.

 

As he lie there, his skull slowly easing down from its heightened hysteria, his sockets coming back into focus from their haze, something caught his eye.

There, on the dusty bottom shelf, was a rather thick, old book.

It wasn’t the book itself that drew his attention, but rather, the name: _Eras in Monster History._

 

His knee bones snapping as he unfurled from his tight ball, he went forward and took the book out. Heavy in his grasp, and dusty as hell, it was pretty impressive. Inlaid with gold lettering, and the symbol of monster royalty, the cover proclaimed the spine’s title proudly.

_Eras in Monster History._

The title, of course wasn’t anything special, really. It was just the fact that the word was spelled exactly the same way as Eras’ name.

Settling into a sit, he placed the book on his lap and cracked open its ancient pages. Dust coated the pages even, and Sans pushed aside the lingering fear-induced intrusive thoughts regarding said dust and its potential origins. The historic tome looked to be exactly as it said. The book was finely written, seemingly by different scribes throughout the ages, detailing their Era and what all came about therein.

He flipped through with annoyance, not seeing anything after all. He really was losing it-

 

As he absently flipped through, he growled as he came to the end, the pages after the last one blank and ready to be filled by the next scribe. “that’s it?” He scoffed to himself, growing frustrated.

He swiped back through the book, skimming for anything, anything at all that he might have missed. Again and again and-

A pained, embarrassing squeak snuck past his teeth, and he shoved the book off his lap. Tears welled in his eyes from anger and hopelessness. Though, as he looked over, he blinked hard, and wiped the blur from his sockets.

“what?” He breathed, pulling the book back over to examine it.

 

Near the back, written in fine, delicate script, was familiar lettering.

 

 

Symbols and glyphs made up the page, an incoherent mess from a madman to most people. A mess, no. Written by a madman, yes.

 

He read:

“I have taken it upon myself to write this here, where no one is likely to find it for years. This information will be more than invaluable when I bring it to light, however, I cannot let it fall into the wrong hands until that time.

 

On this day, I, W.D. Gaster, Royal Scientist, will take the calculated risk of jumping into the core. If my theory is correct, the sustained magic of the core should disrupt the animism of my own soul and cause a reaction like that seen in previous tests. This should transport my being outside of what I have deemed the Map of Existence. I should be able to transpose myself between the map and outside of it at will if my soul is without the physical bounds monsters and human alike possess.

 

Sans, I’m assuming you’re the one who-”

 

Nausea made his marrow feel thick, his soul on the verge of overflow, the taste building in his mouth. He swallowed it down, and picked up the book. Taking it over to a nearby table, he sat down, and with a heavy sigh, he continued:

 

“Sans, I’m assuming you’re the one who found this.

 

And if you have, then more than likely my plan worked. Though, as I write this, I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was worried.

There is so much that is dependent on this working, but it must be done.

 

I have found a way outside of the known world. If my theory is correct, and if all of my conclusions work on a larger scale as predicted, then I should be able to free us.

Tomorrow, I will jump into the core. It will-“

 

 

Sans slammed his fist on the table, his breath catching in panting fury. Gaster threw himself into the core based on a theory to try and free them. He tried to fucking _free them_? Who. Goddamn. Cared? He glared at the pages with seething rage, wanting to tear them to shreds. They had been left alone in this harsh world, forced to scrape by because _Gaster had a theory_.

He didn’t want to read more, but Sans forced himself to. Knowing that this must be what Gaster had wanted him to see, that there must be something more.

 

“Tomorrow, I will jump into the core. It will be terrifying, I know, but it must be done.

 

There is something I need to say to you. And not just you, Sans, but to Papyrus as well: I’ve been a terrible father.”

 

Sans’ soul leapt into his throat, and his phalanges gripped at the table.

 

“I’ve done terrible things to you, Sans. And I’ve neglected you, Papyrus. 

I hardly know the both of you. I’ve spent so long looking at the big picture, at trying to piece apart the puzzle.

I’ve never treated you both as anything other than parts of myself, as you are, yes, but what is a child other than halves of two monsters? I see that now. I see it now with such great, and painful clarity. And I am so, so sorry that it is in these final moments of choice that it has come to light.

As I prepared for this day, I had time to think on my life. I had time to think on all that has been done and said to me. I had time to think of you, my sons.

 

Dear Papyrus, I too often pushed you aside, cast asunder what truly made you special. I only saw you as an inconvenience, as something that was not yet whole. I left you so alone. For that, I am so sorry. Even as I sit here, I realize I hardly remember your face. What a terrible thing to think on. You most likely will not remember me, and for that, I am thankful. I hope you are well.

 

Sans, there aren’t enough words in the world to make up for what I’ve done.

I used your body, mind, soul, and trust to try to shake down the curse of monsterkind. I harmed you in the most atrocious ways. I can’t even begin to list the horrible ways in which I have hurt you. I cannot apologize, for I know it will never be enough. Nothing I do will ever be enough.”

 

Tears dripped from his sockets unbidden, staining the page. Sans was quick to dab them out with a sniff, taking extra care to not smudge the writing. This was not what he had expected. This was hard. This was fucking awful. He was angry, so fucking angry, but at the same time, a part of him cried out for this. Soaked this in, wanted to hold these written words true and close.

He didn’t know what to think.

 

“I know you hate me. I do not blame you one second for it. I imagine once you hear of my absence you will no doubt feel a shred of relief, perhaps.

 

 

My son, I don’t know what kind of monster you are now. What both of you are now. What will you be like so many years from now? What kind of lives will you lead?

This may start to sound like a goodbye, but I am hoping it is not.

 

I know that his Highness has taken you under his wing. He is a good monster, deep down. He is always true to his word, and I know the both of you will be afforded no greater assistance than under his care.

Asgore has given me his solemn word, and for that I am thankful.

 

 

Sans and Papyrus,

I hope one day I am able to reach you. Perhaps not as soon as I’d like, but, one day I hope you will find this. I have done so many terrible things to the both you, that it makes may hand shake to even ask this of you, but it must be done.

 

Please, if I have been able to reach you: go to my lab. It is a hard thing for you to do and it is a lot to ask, I know, but there is something very important there for you.

If I have made contact with you, you should know what it is I speak of.

Make certain to remember the passcode: _Eras._ ”

 

 

Sans furrowed his brow and turned the page, blank. He turned and turned and was met with more blank pages. Of fucking course he left it at that. Of. Fucking. Course. With a tear-choked cry he flipped the heavy tome off the table. “ _fuck you, Gaster!_ ” He screeched as the book slammed onto the floor, the sound making the monsters and human on the other side of the shelf cry out in shock.

He did not care. Something was going on, and he sure as fuck was going to get to the bottom of this stinking cesspool whether he liked it or not. Goddamn Gaster wanted something from him, and he had no choice but to do as he said.

 

 _Just like old fucking times_.

 

 

Rounding the shelves, his rage fizzled out at the wide, shocked eyes of the little group before him. “uhm…” He stammered, a hand flying up to toy at his collar. “we need to leave, kids.”

 

The librarian cocked his head at him, “Oh? Where are you going?”

 

Shoving his hands into his short pockets, he huffed, “we need to go to the lab.”

 

The librarian looked down at the children and the flower, closed the book he’d been reading to them, and stood. “Well, mind if I tag along?” He eyed him, and spoke cautiously, “You look like you’ve got a lot on your plate...”

 

Surprised by the offer, he too looked at the kids. They seemed nervous, even the flower. Sans looked like a wreck, his sockets probably red from crying, scratches most likely on his skull from him losing it a bit earlier. Eras crawled towards him, getting a bit sniffly at seeing his father in such a bad way. “Da?” He asked with a sob, and Sans was quick to pick him up and hold him close. Clanking a small kiss to his skull, he let the little skeleton’s beating soul, and the smell of Papyrus scarf about his neck calm him.

With a sigh, he shifted his gaze back to the librarian, and reached out a hand to him. “i’d like that…?” He trailed off his question with a tired, sheepish smile. He had never gotten the guy’s name, after all his help, after all his care.

 

The monster took his hand and shook it. “Betalin.”

 

Sans smiled, and coughed. “yeah, i’d like the help, Betalin.”

 

 


	38. Chapter 38

 

 

Papyrus breathed a sigh of relief as Sans listened to him. The small skeleton held the beloved scarf tight at his throat, picking up their child and leading the strange group away.

They were safe…so long as he kept the dogs at bay.

 

His mouth curled in a terrible grin, a chuckle on his tongue. The dog pack before him seemed to flinch in response to his sudden change in demeanor. They ought to be scared. With Sans, Eras, and the human out of the way...well, he didn't exactly need to be so lenient. No baby bones to frighten or to get in harm’s way.

 

These fuckers tried to destroy what was his, tried to take away his chance at happiness. These fuckers burned his home to the ground, and all that was inside that he worked hard to achieve. These were crimes that he could not overlook, that he would not forgive.

He was the judge and the jury, and they deserved no less than death for even _thinking_ of hurting his child and his love, and he would not show them mercy.

 

After all, in this world, it's kill or be killed.

 

 

Papyrus stood facing the three dog monsters, his phalanges tingling in anticipation, his magic boiling in his bones.

 

The dogs watched him warily, uncertain.

The first to move was Lesser Dog, spurred on by Doggo's commanding growl. He shuffled towards him, shield at the ready and sword tip bobbing from his shakiness. 

 

He stood his ground, flicking his gaze to Doggo every so often, trying to piece him apart. Doggo was a smart dog, a very smart dog. He was someone that monsters feared, and when he walked the streets, many made sure to hold their breath, for fear of being seen under his gaze. He took charge of the other stupid dogs. He was the leader of their little pack when Papyrus was not around. And even when Papyrus was around, they seemed to be careful of what they said, careful of what they did.

Never enough to incite insubordination, but enough to make him leery at all times.

 

The way Doggo watched him, Papyrus could tell he knew where he stood, despite not being able to see his still form. That sharp stare was narrowed in thought as he chomped on the end of a new bone, and the wheels that turned within that fuzzy skull made Papyrus nervous.

What was he planning?

 

 

Lesser Dog crept ever closer, too close, and Papyrus sprang into action.

 

Bone met metal with a ringing clatter as he thrust at the Dog's shield. Yelping, Lesser Dog retreated backwards quickly, trying to regain his nerve. His sword dropped slightly at his side from the surprising force Papyrus put behind his attack, and Papyrus took advantage of his adversary's shock.

 

Not giving Lesser Dog time to react, he rushed him, catching the blade on his long bone and swiftly knocking it from the dog's grasp to go flying out into the snow.

He rushed him, smashing and cracking as the dog used his shield to glance his attacks away, forced to go on solely defense. Thrust and thrust, step and step, he pushed him back, the shield creaking in misery as his weapon beat it down. A hard smash to the shield made Lesser Dog lose his footing and his paw slid back in the snow. Reflexively, he reached out to catch himself, gasping as he realized his chest was left wide open. Canid ears flattened against Lesser’s head as Papyrus drew his weapon back, set to stab him through.

Until the sound of something heavy whirling through the shrieking wind made him turn.

Papyrus’ sockets widened as a great spear came hurtling towards him, and he dodged just in time as it lodged in the ground where he once stood.

 

Greater Dog roared in anger, racing to come to his kin's aide. Wrenching his spear from the ground he faced Papyrus.

 

 

Luck was on his side as he moved to the side, a slash to his forearm the only damage he took as Doggo raced in from the side. He cried out and bounded back, eyeing both dogs as they circled him. The mutts were coordinating with that pack-mind of theirs, their jaws slathering with panting breaths.

He kept his long bone at the ready, following their movements in kind, not wanting to leave his back exposed.

 

Lesser Dog might have been able to hold his composure, but his kin was far too excitable. The big buffoon, Greater Dog, lumbered towards him, tail wagging in murderous glee.

Doggo snarled in anger at his break in coordination, though it did no good. He barked something to Lesser, but he was too busy whining to himself as he searched in the snow, trying to reclaim his lost sword from the thick powder.

 

 

Papyrus loosed a flurry of bones at Greater Dog, the attack pinging off his heavy, sturdy armor. The canine smile disappeared from his muzzle as a rare, yet goofy display of anger took over. As he made his way closer to Papyrus, he left Lesser Dog exposed. And Doggo was too concerned with keeping Papyrus in his sights to notice.

 

 

Grinning wide, Papyrus taunted the big oaf of a dog into further disarray.  "You thought you could fuck with me, you moron? Nyeh heh heh, I would say I’m surprised that you thought you had…”

Greater Dog growled low, ears lying flat against his skull. He held his spear out before him, ready to block if Papyrus decided to be stupid enough to attack him from the front.

Lesser Dog behind him dropped his shield, using two paws to rummage in the snow, panting and whining in increasing panic.

Doggo was trying to circle behind him, thinking Papyrus was distracted.

Far from it.

 

Papyrus raised a brow to Greater Dog, needing just a bit more lee-way between him and Lesser…

“Though, I suppose you don’t have much to get wet anyways, now do you, mutt?”

 

A cruel smile tore across Papyrus’ skull as the dog snarled. His canine lip flipping from his teeth as he gnashed them from the blow to his pride. He lunged forward with primal rage, wanting to rip Papyrus bone from bone between his jaws.

 

But the skeleton was quick, and knew how his previous solider behaved. Twisting out of his steamroll of a lunge, he sprinted towards Lesser Dog, long bone ready and singing for blood.

 

Lesser perked up with tail wagging, his sword grasped in his paws in triumph, and was caught unassuming.

 

 

The long bone stabbed through soft tissue with a satisfying squelch and crunch of breaking ribs. Hot, red fluid splattered across Papyrus’ gloves and chest. Lesser Dog merely gasped, his canine eyes white at the edges, fear and shock evident as he turned to see his former commander behind him.

Papyrus thrust his attack in deeper, earning him a choked, meek sigh of a cry as the dog monster began to fall forward. With skilled ease, he slipped the long-bone from the body, and stepped aside as Lesser Dog fell, his form disintegrating into a cloud of dust as it settled into the snow.

 

Not taking the time to think on it, he whirled around to stare his enemies down.

Doggo stood, smoke trailing from his bone as he squinted in uncertainty. The wheels were turning and turning…

 

His companion was quite his opposite. A grievous, keening howl boomed in the clearing as Greater Dog witnessed the death of his kin. Long and chilling, the wail held an air of power, as if something had been awakened within the great dumb beast. Emotion ruled in this creature’s pained soul.

This was to be expected. Though Greater Dog was normally quite docile, there was only so much a creature could take before they snapped.

Papyrus braced himself, wary and ready for what might come from the behemoth dog.

 

The large dog snarled something to Doggo, and with a sigh and spit to the ground, the near-blind dog sheathed his weapons.

Apparently, Greater wanted Papyrus to himself.

 

Greater Dog faced the murderer of his kin, eyes trained on his as he snarled, tongue licking at his snarling fangs. He held his great spear in his gauntlets tight, vengeance his goal. Great clouds of heated breath panted from his maw, a mixture of a growl and whine escaped his slathering jaws as he made his way forward.

Papyrus eyed him, sidestepping as he tried to gauge his opponent’s maneuvers. With a graceful leap he dodged to the side just as the enormous spear came stabbing down, its heaviness shaking the ground as it hit with the screech of magic on rock.

 

Having missed, Greater Dog leapt up from his previous attack, opting to swing the spear out and around from his stand, trying to undercut Papyrus in an arching sweep.

Conjuring bones beneath his feet, Papyrus catapulted away just before the spear lashed out and sliced clean through the bones where he had once stood.

 

 

Greater Dog was merciless in his attacks, pure hate fueling his endeavor.

Papyrus was swift and agile, his thin frame making it easy for him to bound out of harm's way as the enemy pressed onward. Greater Dog stabbed and swept his spear in wide arches, his attacks much less calculated as they were desperate.

 

So concentrated was Papyrus on his enemy’s movements and keeping a careful watch on Doggo, that he had not taken his environment into account. The breath rushed from his chest as his back collided with a scraggily tree.

His eye widened as Greater Dog rumbled with a deep, growling laugh.

 

He was cornered.

 

The dog monster raised his spear with both hands to impale Papyrus where he stood.

 

Papyrus’ soul beat loudly in his chest. He grit his teeth and took a risk. Sprinting forward, he ducked into a roll between the dog’s iron-clad legs.

A terrible, splintering sound creaked through the forest, the spear had utterly obliterated the tree that had been behind him seconds ago. Before the dog could even utter a sound of surprise at his disappearance, Papyrus popped up from behind and stabbed him through the back.

 

The dog yelped and spun his spear round, the force of the attack obliterating nearby saplings and trees alike. Papyrus tucked and rolled, springing from place to place as the ground and trees exploded from the dogs horrific, rage-fueled attacks. Red stained the snow as the dog went, gushes coming forth as he pushed his body beyond itself.

 

Greater Dog was letting his anger get the best of him, and Papyrus used this to his advantage. Dodging and moving still, Papyrus loosed bones from the ground, most smashed to pieces, though some made their mark. Red spattered the ground, the dog growing slower in his movements.

Seeing his weakened state, Papyrus took on the offense.

 

Dodging in and out, he landed cuts to the great beast, drawing more of the hot fluid forth. Greater Dog panted and growled, spear seeming to become heavier as he lugged onwards.

Again and again he attacked until the Dog gave a final, broken cry and fell to his knees. Without a second thought, Papyrus landed the ending stab: cutting him straight through his soul.

 

The spear in that great dog’s paws fell with a tremendous thud before it disappeared in a cloud of smoke. Its owner grasped at the blood-red bone stabbing through his chest, his head cocking to the side in confusion as he turned to dust.

Dumb in death as he was in life.

 

 

Papyrus turned to the last and final member of the pack, Doggo.

 

Doggo's bone had burnt all the way to the end as he watched, nearly burning his lip as he stared at the skeleton that had slaughtered his two pack-mates. "Ha ha... Damn, bones. I didn't expect that out of you." He spat out his over-spent bone, and rested his paws on the hilts of his duel short swords. “What after a baby and all. Hell, you’re something else, aren’t you?”

 

Papyrus tightened his grip on his long bone. He knew Doggo had a disability when it came to movement, but he was a very good with his swords. He eyed the sheathed blades, ready to parry at the slightest movement. Papyrus said nothing, he stood still, in hopes that Doggo had lost track of where he was from earlier.

Doggo sniffed at the air, seeming angry, as if he’d lost his scent. Though his expression quickly changed, as he gave a sharp-toothed grin. "You know, bones," His paws clenched around his hilts. "I never did tell you how cute your kid is."

Despite himself, Papyrus flinched at the unexpected comment. Doggo rushed forward, haven been given an opportunity from the ploy. Papyrus barely had time to raise his long bone as the two blades crossed in a scissoring cut, their sharp edges digging into the bone with a crunch. Disgusting, smoky dog-breath hit him full in the face as Doggo laughed, "I could just _eat him up_."

 

 

Horror shocked through Papyrus at the thought, his soul cringing in disgust, fear, and anger. The power of such a terrible comment was cruel and unexpected.

Doggo took advantage of the new parent's weakness, shoving Papyrus back and began swiping in a series of expert slashes. Papyrus was forced to fall back, grunting under the force of his opponent’s double-attack. His long-bone gave a splintering crack as one of the swords hit the previous cuts in its shaft just right.

 

Papyrus flashed a series of bones up in front of him, knowing Doggo would crush through them. Quickly he sprinted out of the way of splintering shards, trying to put distance between them.

Though Doggo had trouble seeing stationary objects, he was gifted when it came to objects in movement. He almost seemed to anticipate the bone attacks Papyrus summoned from the ground, easily dodging around them. Sheathing his swords, he raced on all fours, panting out a laugh as Papyrus continued to raise red bone attacks from the front, the sides, from every angle. They erupted from the ground with great splashes of snow and rock. The dog monster seemed almost immune to them as he skillfully avoided every single one.

 

As a last resort, Papyrus prepared his special attack. He knew that it would be impossible for him to dodge it. He was fed up with this game of chase and ready to impale the fucker where he stood.

 

"Oh no you don't!" Doggo bounded off a nearby tree and launched into the air, unsheathing his swords as he came crashing down right in front of Papyrus. The sudden confrontation made Papyrus release his special attack and quickly conjure his long bone in defense. "I saw your special attack at Grillby’s! Not gonna get me that easy, bones." His tongue lolled from his mouth as they clashed again.

 

Papyrus slid the dog's attacks away from harming him and bashed his thrusts away.

Doggo hacked at him from seemingly every angle and stabbed at him with teeth-jarring force.

The two combatants were well-matched when it came to physical prowess.

 

 

They stopped, weapons crossed, both wary of the other, but both needing to catch their breath.

 

 

"Ha...you know I wouldn’t really hurt your kid, right?" Doggo huffed, his breath stinking of burnt bones.

“I don’t know if I believe you.” Papyrus grunted, giving an exploratory push.

Doggo held his ground with a steady push back. “Undyne’s orders, ha. Besides, you know I don’t like killing kids.”

Papyrus huffed, his soul dropping in his chest, “Nobody does, Doggo.”

“I know…” He smiled a sad, canine smile, one ear twitching.

A long silence hung over them, the only sound the slight titter of their weapons.

Looking pointedly at their crossed magic, Doggo stated, “This really sucks, you know.”

Papyrus sighed, and though he wanted to relax, he knew he could not. He answered simply, “I know.”

 

Every now and then, one would stiffen as the other pushed at the bind, testing the other's resolve. Papyrus gave a tired laugh, drawing a silly canine display of curiosity out of Doggo. "You know, Doggo, this doesn't have to end this way." He kept his voice calm, though his weapon remained at the ready. "We could easily call this a day..."

Doggo barked with humorless laughter. "Ha ha ha! You think Undyne would be allowed to let me live if we made truce? You're a traitor, and an enemy to the King. Dogamy and Dogaressa might think they can get away, but you know as well as I that they won't get far."

Papyrus tried to reason, "Things are changing, Doggo. The human is going to bring down the barrier, we can leave-"

"Don't give me that bullshit, bones!" Doggo sighed and gave him an almost sad look. "I'd rather not remember you as a lunatic."

 

 

The near-blind dog monster had always been Papyrus' favorite out of all the guards. He reminded him of Sans...in a way. Always fighting against the odds. Most monsters with his disability gave up on their dreams, feeling no hope in ever actually obtaining them, especially in such a violent place as the underground.

But not Doggo.

Doggo had trained and worked just as hard as anyone else to become a guard. He and Papyrus had trained together under Undyne, working closely together due to their combat skills aligning and complimenting one another.

 

 

 

“There’s no going back for us, bones.” Doggo stared, his odd eyes seeing through him.

“I guess not.” Papyrus held his gaze, knowing that when they parted for the last and final time, one of them would be dust.

 

Almost as if on cue, they both broke from the bind, Papyrus fainting to the left as he raised his long bone against Doggo’s rush.

Both were tiring, Papyrus from his magic usage, and Doggo from the physical strain on his body. Many mistakes were made, many openings left. It was only a matter of time before something happened.

The fight might have been close, a draw of sorts…

The only turning factor was that one had more to lose than the other.

 

 

Papyrus thrust his long bone forward, and was shocked to feel it connect with tender flesh.

 

Focusing back in from the heat of battle, his eye widened as he saw Doggo stare down at the magic piercing him in his side. The dog monster grit his teeth and shuttered his eyes against the pain, dropping his swords to grip at the bone stabbing through his lung and grazing against his spine. Soul-stopping dog-eyes looked up at him in severe pain, red foaming at his mouth as he took gurgling pants.

Papyrus withdrew his long bone, letting Doggo sink to his knees to clutch at the wound, red liquid squelching between his paws to stain his fur. Red dribbled from his maw with wet burbles as he tried to draw breath still. Before the monster had to endure any more of the pain, Papyrus brought the bone crashing down with a final and sickening crunch upon his skull. The body didn’t even have the chance to crumple to the ground before it turned to dust.

Just another mark of red and gray on the snow.

Just one of many throughout his life.

That was all.

 

Just another pile of dust.

 

 

A buzzing in his pocket made his soul leap into his throat, he took the cellphone from his pocket, hoping that maybe Sans-

 

 

On the little phone screen, was not Sans’ name, but Undyne’s.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought you guys would find the title of this chapter's document amusing: "Papyrus kicks dog ass"


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot is going on. @.@
> 
> Also, just so you guys know: lately I've been doing most of my writing on-the-go on my phone with an app. While it allows me to type, it has the STUPIDEST auto-corrections I've ever seen. Not to mention it insults my extensive fucking vocabulary on the daily. Why, yes, my dear app, "tirade" IS A MOTHERFUCKING WORD.
> 
> Anyways, if there are an abundance of typos, let me know. I will try to fix them as soon as I can. I tried to read over it, but I have a lot going on all at once. Not just in the story! ;)

 

 

The small group of monsters tread carefully as they made their way through town, headed to the River Person’s dock. 

 

Betalin held Frisk’s hand, while Sans carried Eras, and for the hundredth time he was thankful to have the librarian accompanying him. His sockets shifted at every gust of wind that shifted the snow. He kept seeing eyes in the shadows, though once looked at, they blinked from existence. Having someone he trusted, and someone he knew to be kind and trustworthy at his back was the greatest relief. 

 

His soul had calmed as they went on. They were going at a brisk pace, not wanting to risk being seen. There was a good little bit of XP between the five of them, and any monster would be an idiot to turn down the easy opportunity.

 

Thankfully, due to the poorness of the weather, many monsters were holed up in their homes. And all the guards were…were…

 

 

Sans cut off that thought, pushing onwards.

 

 

Soon enough they were at the River Person’s boat. The hooded figure stood faithfully waiting for passengers no matter rain, snow, or shine. They turned to them, and cocked their head to Sans and Eras. “ _Tra la la_. Got a bit _too_ freaky, huh?” 

 

Sans blushed, and the monster behind him gave an embarrassed cough. Flipping the River Person off, he got in the boat and sat down. “shut up and do your fucking job.”

 

Soothing over Sans’ harsh snap, Betalin asked gently, “We would like to go to Hotland.”

 

 

Without another quip from the hooded figure, they were off, the boat racing along the water towards their destination.

 

Sans sat watching as the spray kicked up from the boat, the hypnotic effect letting him fall into his thoughts. To wonder and puzzle over everything he had seen and heard. The same questions boiled and toiled in his skull, and he couldn’t help but wonder what part they all had to play in this.

 

 

“Hey, Frisk?” The party in the boat looked over at Flowey, the only one to break the silence during the whole, somewhat ominous feeling, trip. “You look pretty tired of carrying me, maybe Sans should carry me for a bit?”

 

Frisk cocked their head to the side in question, but still looked at Sans with a raised brow.

 

Sans didn’t want the asshat anywhere near him, but as the boat pulled to a stop at the Hotland dock, the flower made its way to curl about his throat. He gasped and tried to hide it with a cough, not wanting to admit the Flower had actually gotten him worried for a second.

 

 

“ok… i guess i’m carrying you now.” Sans glared at Flowey, making sure he knew that he did _not_ appreciate the sudden company. 

 

Smiling sweetly, the flower made no indication that he gave a fuck what Sans thought.

 

They all made their way to the lab, a huge, imposing building that jut out from the otherwise arid landscape. Sans shivered as they approached, the smell of chemicals practically burning in his nasal aperture. This was it. This was what Gaster wanted.

 

Between them and their destiny stood a great metal door, locked up tight. Thinking a moment, he reached out to place his hand on the scanner. It probably wouldn’t still remember…

 

The device produced a happy quip of a beep to the contrary. Taking few moments to warm up, the door groaned with a hiss, its heavy steel door opening to them.

 

 

Well, what do you know?

 

 

 

Setting Eras onto his feet, Sans pulled him along as the child walked with waddling steps at his side. Eras was better at walking, and Sans wanted to have his hands ready at a moment’s notice.

 

Who knew what lie within these labs? The last time he had been here…

 

He grunted and focused instead on the task at hand. Thinking of the past would do him no good here. Remembering the layout of the building was all that he needed, anything else was just a waste of time.

 

 

Though he remembered the layout and general look of the halls and innards of the labyrinth, he didn’t really recognize this front room all that well. From what he remembered, this used to be Gaster’s quarters, though the scientist had ended up never occupying the space. Sans only saw this place once briefly when he and Papyrus had escaped and back then it had appeared unused and devoid of anything.

It certainly was not devoid now.

 

 

Bowls of instant noodles lined the shelves, papers strewn about, and strange figurines that looked oddly human (though they looked to have oddly disproportionate body parts) which sat in various display spots.

 

He’d heard that the new Royal Scientist, Alphys, was a bit of a loon, but heh, looking at a nearby table, he couldn’t help but snort at some of the stupid-looking movies on its top. Titles such as _Kissy Mew Mew_ , didn’t exactly make Sans feel intimidated by the scientist. This Alphys-monster looked like a dweeb.

 

 

Since she wasn’t around, Sans led the group onwards, heading to the elevator at the far end which led into the true nitty-gritty of the lab.

 

 

When the doors slid open, he paused, his thumb brushing the fingers of the little skeleton at his side.

 

“i, uh…” He began, his bones starting to rattle gently. Before him was the mouth of hell, or rather, it might as well be. Down below in the stinking guts of the lab were truly terrible things. Awful things…

 

He really didn’t want Eras down there.

Or any of them for that matter.

 

“i hate asking this of you…Betalin…” Barely able to look at the monster, he couldn’t help but feel like shit for asking more of him. Sans didn’t know how to repay him for saving Papyrus! Let alone watching the kid for them, taking care of them while Sans went on a rage-fueled easter-egg hunt, and _now_ he was coming along with him to help watch over the little group?

Sans was so indebted to him it made him nervous. “i don’t want…” He looked down at Eras, toying with the too-big scarf around his neck, so sweet and oblivious to what lie beneath his feet.

 

 

 

“It’s ok, Sans.”

 

 

The simple sentence made him finally turn to look up into kind eyes, made humorously huge by the thick glasses he wore. Betalin gave him a smile. “These guys won’t be a problem for me!”

 

“are you sure?” Sans gave him a cursory glance, not really sure himself.

 

The librarian’s expression faltered as he looked at the elevator before them. Taking a breath, he nodded. “Yes, I’m sure.” His voice grew dark, a tone he had never heard from the usually overly-happy lizard, “I know what’s down there.”

 

Sans shivered at his statement, but you’d think it never happened based upon how quickly Betalin perked up, “Haha, I would…rather stay up here, anyways.” The librarian-doctor gave him a sheepish grin, and Sans felt better for it.

 

He breathed a sigh of relief. “heh, thanks again, B.”

 

The librarian perked up at the nickname, looking like the small gesture had made his whole day.

“N-no problem!” He smiled all the wider before reaching out to Eras, speaking gently, “Come here, Eras. Let’s go sit down somewhere and play, huh?”

 

Eras looked to Sans with a whimper, grasping at his pant leg.

 

“hey, no fussing, ya little shit.” Sans patted him on top of the skull, feeling terrible for leaving him again…but there was no way he was taking Eras down there.

 

 

To his surprise, Frisk came over, their quiet nature making it easy to forget their presence. 

 

Though quiet, they said a lot with their actions, and Eras always seemed to listen. As they came over, the human gave Eras a warm smile, extending a hand to him.

 

After a long look at his dad, he relented. Reaching out, he took the human’s hand. Frisk pulled him close and wrapped their arms around him, pulling the sad little skeleton into a hug. The toddler was quick to accept the comfort that Frisk offered him, sighing heavily. He seemed very tired after all that had happened today.

 

While Sans did not trust the human, he had to admit they seemed to be kind enough. And hopefully Betalin would keep a close eye on them. Giving Betalin a steady stare, he knew Betalin understood the silent look of distrust as he nodded to him.

 

 

Looking over at the flower on his shoulder, he snarled, “ok, asshat. time for you to go bother the kid.” Even as he went to try and grasp the vine, it moved out of his grip. “hey-!”

 

“Don’t get grabby with me, trashbag! I’m going with you.” The flower snarled back just as fiercely, staring him down.

 

He stared right the fuck back. “oh _hell_ no-”

 

“Heck yes!” Flowey combated. “I don’t trust you.”

 

“that makes two of us.”

 

 

Standing there in front of the elevator, time ticking away, to what end, Sans had no idea. But he could practically see the sand pouring down, and fucking arguing with a _fucking flower_ was not going to get him any closer to whatever he needed to do.

“fine.” He snapped, wanting to whirl around and storm off…but sad red eyes watching him fizzled his anger right out.

 

 

Getting down onto his knees, he reached out to give Eras a hug.

 

The little guy was quick to waddle over and throw his arms around his neck. “Da.” He said thickly, and Sans knew that it was gonna be hard as hell for Betalin once he left.

 

“yeah, that’s my name, kid. heh heh, don’t wear it out, ok?” He kissed the top of his skull, loosing a sigh. “i love ya, ok? Dad will be back soon.” Tearing himself away, he tried to ignore the pained whimpers from the child. Leaving him without his other father.

 

“Da!” Eras cried, though Sans knew it best to get moving, before he could hurt the child any more.

Getting on the elevator, he pressed the down button, and was thankful when the doors finally closed, closing off the sight of fat tears, and desperate hands.

 

 

He sighed to himself, his chest aching at leaving Eras like that, making the poor thing cry. All was silent as the elevator hummed. The droning as it made its way into the deep depths of the labyrinth was soothing in a way, helped ground him and clear his head. Why come here? Why? What did any of this have to do with the human-

 

 

 

“What exactly did you find in the library, trashbag?” The whisper against his skull made him stiffen and whip his head around to stare into the mistrusting eyes of Flowey.

 

Why the fuck was this guy important, for example? When Gaster came to him in his dream, he had shown him a flower with a face. _This_ flower. This motherfucking asshole of a flower. There was something more to this guy. Something that he was not letting on to. 

Acting as if he knew something he didn’t, and questioning Sans the way he did. Oh yeah, there was something up this guy’s sleeves…so to speak.

 

 

He shrugged to the flower, feigning innocent confusion. “nothing, really, i just…remembered something important.”

The flower’s face scrunched in anger, leaning in close. “Like hell you did.”

 

Sans flinched from the sudden change in the Flower’s voice, and the curse he uttered.

 

Before he could ask more the elevator dinged, announcing their arrival. His soul hammered in his chest as the doors opened, what may lie beyond terrifying him to the core.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Papyrus flicked through his phone, not really sure what to make of all the missed calls from Undyne.

 

Clearly, she wanted to speak to him. Desperately.

 

But why? 

She had sicked the dogs on him! She wants him fucking dead! Lot of good calling a pile of dust would do.

 

Though, he was alive, and she was trying to call him. As he stood there puzzling over the strangeness of it all, his cellphone began to buzz in his hand again. 

 

Undyne's name flashed on the screen.

 

His thumb hovered over the "end" button, ready to just hang up on her ass.

 

 

But curiosity got the better of him.

 

He pressed talk, and brought it to his skull. The voice on the other end was frantic and near-screeching, "PAPYRUS?! PAPYRUS ARE YOU THERE?!" Rage coursed through his bones like smoldering fire, low and seething, but he kept silent. "...Papyrus?"

The line was quiet, and after that good bit of silence, he was about to hang up when:

 

"Papyrus, please."

 

The sound of her voice, thick and cracking made him pause and hold the phone close. 

 

"I need to know you're alive."

 

 

His mouth opened and closed, opened and closed. Words on his tongue avoided him, just out of reach. He wanted to scream, he wanted to roar, he wanted to comfort her, he wanted to throw the fucking phone, he wanted to cry.

 

But instead of those things, he said, "I'm alive."

 

 

Papyrus didn't even listen to what she might have said, or not have said. He snapped the phone shut and took a moment to collect himself.

God, why did everything have to be so difficult?

 

Papyrus was tired. He slept very little as of late, and the day was wearing on him heavily. His arm hurt from the slash to it earlier. Hunger nipped at his soul, still not fully recovered from the difficult labor. His bones ached and groaned with pain.

 

Worst of all was how much he missed his little family. How much he missed Sans and Eras. In this moment, there was nothing more in the world that he wanted than to hold them close and curl up in blissful rest...

 

But that was not going to happen anytime soon. 

 

Stretching and snapping the aches from his bones, he brought himself back into focus.

 

 

 

He needed to call Sans.

 

Papyrus dialed him in...and it went straight to voicemail. 

 

"SANS, YOU _MORON_!" He screamed to the phone, his awful mood getting the best of him. "CHARGE YOUR GODDAMN PHONE FOR ONCE IN YOUR FUCKING LIFE! YOU ASSHOLE! GODDAMNIT! WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME, YOU MOTHER-"

 

The voicemail system cut him off, ending his tirade early.

 

Wiping the spittle from his teeth, he went to shove the device back into his pocket, when a message on-screen caught his eye, a message from Undyne:

"I want to help, Papyrus"

 

 

 

 

Whipping the phone back open, he punched in Undyne's number.

 

The phone barely rang before a familiar voice answered, "Papyrus-?!"

 

"SHUT IT, UNDYNE!" Papyrus barked into the phone. “I’M TIRED AND HUNGRY AND _PISSED AS HELL_!” He shook as he ranted, and Undyne kept silent as he screamed, “I’VE BEEN TO HELL IN A HAND BASKET! I’VE HAD TO KILL ALL OF MY SOLDIERS, MY OWN _GODDAMN_ SOLDIERS!” His voice strained in his throat, but still he screamed, “I CAN’T GET A HOLD OF SANS, I DON’T KNOW IF ERAS I-IS…I-I DON’T KNOW IF THEY’RE…I-IF THEY’RE-”

Oh, god. There it went. There went the last bit of his dignity. His voice cracked with a choked sob, the horribleness of it all making his soul overflow into his mouth. The bitter taste lingered on his tongue though he swallowed it down, his throat stinging and sockets pricking.

His soul choked him, ripping him open with a horrible pain in his chest, “Why does this have to happen? Why the fuck did you do this?”

 

It was so much.

Just too damn much.

 

Undyne remained silent over the phone, probably laughing at his break. The break in his mask, the chip in his defense, the shattering of his closely-guarded soul.

He cried, right there in the snow, surrounded by the dust of his monsters. Lesser Dog, Greater Dog… The ones he had trained himself from puppy-hood. He had taught them to fight, showed them how to swing a blade and throw a spear. Despite his cruel comments and harsh words, despite the growing mistrust they all held for each other, he always thought of them as good fighters. As swift or strong in their own right. He believed they could only improve in their lives and they had, going from witless drooling mutts to deadly hounds that were feared. He had been tough on them, but they had made him proud even in their final moments. They all put up a good fight as he could only have asked for.

His soldiers…and Doggo, his most respected and hated rival, and dare-he-say equal…

 

Dust.

All dust.

By his hand.

 

God, Papyrus couldn’t stop crying like a goddamn bitch.

And it just kept coming.

“I-I don’t know what to do…” Papyrus said lamely, having no one else to speak to besides his enemy. After all, that’s all that really remained for him anyways, huh? A world full of enemies.

“I just wanted…” He croaked, unable to speak more as his throat tightened. He wanted fucking happiness. He wanted a fucking happy ending. He just wanted to have something that was his and that was good, something that hadn’t been bought or sold with blood or ill-coin.

Something sweet and wholesome, something that he could hold close and let his soul just feel warm and loved.

 

Was that so much to ask?

Or did he just not deserve it?

 

 

“Papyrus.” The voice on the line, commanding and stern jerked him from his spiraling, painful thoughts. Strong and powerful, like the commander herself. “I promise you, with all of my fucking soul…I’ll help you find them.”

He sniffed, ready to say something, when Undyne went on, “Pap…I was wrong.”

 

Papyrus paused, knowing her words were not to be trusted, but soul so tender and hurt it clutched onto anything it could, like a drowning creature to a stick.

 

“Papyrus, I’ve never been so wrong in my life.” Undyne spoke with great vindication and prose. “I am so sorry, Pap. I-I’m so sorry…”

His sockets widened as Undyne choked over the line, “Papyrus, you’re like a brother to me. Haha, a big, doofy brother…” She trailed off uncertainly but soon spoke again with a sigh. “I had…no idea. That you really felt the way that you did. I was trying to protect you! I know you’re grown up now, but…

 

The silence stretched and Papyrus shifted his feet nervously, not sure what Undyne was going to say. His skull was too tired to think on it more, too tired to be let anger whittle away at his mind. Part of him wanted to believe her. Part of him knew it was too good to be true.

 

“Ha, you know, I just…feel for you.” She sighed, “You’re my best friend.”

 

“F-funny way of showing it.” He rasped. The comment making Undyne wince.

 

“Listen, I know you can’t trust me-”

 

He cut her off with a snap, “Damn right I don’t fucking trust you. Why the fuck should I?”

Nothing she could say could heal the pain she’d put him through, the fear that he had felt for his family. Nothing she could say could grant her forgiveness. Nothing would ever be able to keep him from hating her.

 

 

She spoke, “Because I know where Sans is.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Eras, the small skeleton hiccuped quietly, his crying finally calming.

 

You hold him close, he seemed to like your hugs. Gently you pat his skull, hoping maybe it might make him feel better.

You hate seeing the little guy cry, and he seems to have done a lot of that lately.

 

Poor thing.

 

 

You look up at Betalin, who was trying to soothe him with another story that he'd brought with him from the library. 

It was a nice book. A story about a sweet little bunny.

 

It made you feel sleepy.

 

 

You yawn lightly, tired after everything. Snuggling against Eras, your eyelids start to feel heavy. Before long you are sleeping soundly, cuddled with your dear monster friend.

 

 

 

A sound makes you wake up.

Angry voices, is what it sounds like.

 

 

Rubbing your eyes, you are surprised to find yourself in a bed, covered with a warm blanket. Eras sleeps beside you, eyes still lined red from tears, but dead to the world in his exhaustion.

 

Wake him?

 

No. You decide to leave sleeping skeletons lie.

 

 

Carefully, you get out of bed, making sure to not jostle Eras.

 

You are in a part of the lab you aren't too familiar with. It looks like you are upstairs? A conveyor system seems to run the length, allowing monsters (and some humans) to travel. 

It seems safe enough to you, so you hop on. It takes you back downstairs, and sure enough, what had awakened you was indeed angry voices.

 

 

Two lizards stood arguing. 

Betalin, your kind friend, and a yellow sciency-looking lizard you did not know.

 

 

Betalin growled, "Will you please look at me, Alphys?" 

 

The other lizard, apparently Alphys, was typing on her phone, seemingly uncaring of what Betalin had to say.

 

"Alphys!" Betalin tried again.

 

This time the monster shoved her cellphone into her pocket (you noted the absurd amount of key chains dangling from it). She gave him an angry glare. "I hear you. I j-just needed to send a quick text."

 

Before Betalin could say more, Alphys went on, "I don't care what you say about the human being "nice". A human is a human, and we need one more soul to be free. I should just extract the damn soul from it right now!"

 

"Alphys, did you not hear I word I've been saying?" Betalin sighed and smacked his hands at his sides in exasperation.

 

"N-no, I heard you," Alphys chuckled humorlessly, "And it's just the kind of "happy ending" you _would_ be drawn into."

 

Betalin flinched, his brow pinching. "This isn't some game, Alphys! This is a chance! This is _freedom_ we're talking about here!"

 

"It _is_ a game, one that w-we've been losing for too long! W-why chance taking two skeletons advice when we have a solution that's tried and true?"

 

"Because it's wrong!" Betalin screamed, furious now.

 

"And there it is!" Alphys threw her arms up in anger. "You j-just want everything to be peachy-keen and just as sweet! But that's not how things work! You can't just run away from the hard facts of life!"

 

"You don't know that!" Betalin tried to reason, "Just because there's one way of doing something doesn't mean it's the best-"

 

"I-it _is_ the best!" Alphys interrupted. "We need Asgore to become stronger! We need him to help us wipe out humanity! There is no other way! You think the humans are just going to let us on the surface? You think we can all just live happily ever after?"

 

Betalin pursed his lips, seething with anger, but looking thoughtful.

 

Alphys sighed, coming over to place a hand on his shoulder. "I know you...have a soft heart. B-but it's the only way, Betalin."

 

"Couldn't we at least try?" Betalin spoke quietly, unsurely, though he spoke with hope in his soul. "Al, why can't we just try? You know as much I that the barrier might not come down even with the souls."

 

Sighing, Alphys began, "The previous Royal Scientist's calculations-"

 

This time, Betalin interrupted, "Yeah, and where did the previous Royal Scientist go? Listen, Al, I know that their papers were brilliant, and they did make a lot of amazing things but...isn't it weird that they're just gone? Nobody knows where they are? It just seems...weird to me."

Before Alphys could contest, he pressed on, determined. "Maybe they were wrong! Maybe they made a mistake! Everyone does."

 

The scientist lizard looked off to the side, and you couldn't help but feel like a great guilt weighed on her.

 

"We all make mistakes, Al. And I do to." Carefully, he gave her a tentative hug. "I'm sorry for leaving you, Alphys. I know that you needed me. It…it wasn’t all your fault.”

 

“I was so wrong.” Alphys sighed, her voice thick. “They are just…awful. Abominations.”

Betalin said nothing, not revealing anything more of the apparent abominations.

 

The two remained that way for a bit, until Alphys looked over to you, her eyes going wide as she gasped, "T-the human!"

 

 

 

You flinch, but remain where you are, not really sure what else to do anyways.

 

The two lizards break apart, as Betalin gives you a smile, "Oh, hello, Frisk! I'm sorry, did we wake you?" He motions for you to come over.

 

Do you go?

...yes.

 

Carefully, you make your way over, shy and nervous of the other monster. You clutch at Betalin's arm tight, untrusting of Alphys.

 

 

"Alphys, this is Frisk." Betalin nudges you with his arm, but you remain too wary to do more than give a small wave. 

"And, Frisk, this is Alphys, my sister."

 

Alphys raises a curious brow to you, but her expression softens. She raises a tentative hand and gives a little wave back before she becomes aware of what she had done, and retracts the appendage back. "You shouldn't get attached to it." Alphys murmurs, but you're not really sure if Alphys is talking to Betalin or herself.

 

"Well, I wouldn't say attached per say." Betalin chuckles. "But we are friends!" He looks down at you, his eyes kind and trusting behind his thick glasses. "Aren't we?"

 

You nod with a smile. You liked the librarian lizard. He was sweet and he read the best stories!

 

The monster before you cocked her head to the side. "They've...never hurt you?" She asked her brother.

 

"Never." Betalin answered. He patted the top of Frisk's head. "They are wonderful, and kind. They are really nice-"

 

 

“Betalin, look…things are…different. You _can’t_ be friends or whatever you want to call it with the human. Its-” Alphys looked like she wanted to say more, until a loud sound jarred them from their conversation.

 

All three looked about at the sound of rumbling and smashing.

 

 

"What?!" Betalin shouted over the racket, pulling you close. "What is that-?"

 

The sound of metal being torn apart and crashing stone greeted them, the floor shaking beneath their feet. 

You hold onto Betalin tight, afraid to find out just what was making that horrendous noise.

 

 

In a spray of drywall dust, a figure burst from the wall. 

 

You cough and sputter from the thick dust, your eyes watering. The lights clicked off suddenly and you cry out in fear, stories of terrible monsters foremost in your mind.

 

All is silent beside the sound of Betalin's breath as he crouched close, trying his best to keep you safe.

 

 

A light, a bright spotlight, casts a monster or, machine rather, in its sights. Posing dramatically, haloed by slowly settling dust, the strange robot-thing loosed a sumptuous cry, "OHHH, YES!"

 

 

The lights come on, and you stare at the strange monster, unsure if it is friend or foe.

 

"THERE _IS_ A HUMAN HERE, I KNEW IT!"

 

"Yes, yes, that is the human." Alphys waves him off distractedly as she goes over to stand at the robot's side. "Behold, Mettaton, my greatest creation." She spoke firmly with a puff of pride to her chest, though avoiding looking at Betalin. "He is used mainly for entertainment to help control the masses, but..." Reaching behind Mettaton's back, a loud clicking sound made the robot jolt.

 

"He's been repurposed as a blood-thirsty, human killing machine." 

Mettaton loosed a loud cry, mechanisms whirring and smoke trailing from his frame as pieces and parts reconfigured and snapped apart then back together.

 

Familiar hands covered your eyes, while yet another pulled you close, blocking out the sounds of screaming. You clenched on tight to your friend, afraid of those cries, afraid of Alphys, afraid for your life.

As the sounds subside, you turn in the librarian’s grasp to peer at the monstrocity before you.

 

Standing shaking and panting, was Mettaton, or at least you were certain it was still the same robot. Four arms wriggled like untamed snakes, strange stacked eyes scrunched in pain, vicious teeth gritting.

“Get a hold of yourself, Mettaton.” Alphys snapped. “There’s still a human here.”

 

Mettaton whipped his head round to glare at her, nose scrunching in rage. “YOU SAID YOU TURNED OFF THE PAIN RECEPTORS!” He screamed, his arms finally calming as he gained semblance of control over them. A weapon transmogrified from one of his many arms, its barrel pointed at her with deadly intent.

 

“ALPHYS!” Betalin shouted, gripping your shoulder tight.

 

Alpyhs did not appear the slightest bit afraid of the monster’s threat, however. “P-point that thing at your t-target. I told you this day would eventually come. Your body cost a lot to make, and it certainly w-wasn’t going to be used for entertainment purposes only.”

 

Mettaton growled low in his throat, before he snapped around to point the gun at you.

 

“Alphys!” Betalin cried, raising a hand in defense out of reflex. “Don’t do this! Call him off!”

 

“You can’t be friends with the human, Betalin!” Alphys growled coldly. “They are sentenced to death by the King. And a-anyone w-who stands in the w-way.”

 

There is a hardness to her eye that you do not like. Mettaton scowls, a great hum building as light sputters to life in his weapon. You scream in fear as you hold your friend tight, wanting this all to just go away.

 

 

And it could, couldn’t it?

It’s so easy for you. You have a little ace up your sleeve that no one else does. And you can use it whenever you desire.

 

It’s been a strange and tough little adventure, hasn’t it?

Too tough for you.

Maybe you should…

 

 

RESET?

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Sans stood immobile in the elevator, frozen as memories flooded back. Waking these very halls, the smell of antiseptic in the air now gone stale but still there. His soul hammered in his chest, lingering feelings of fear not yet done with him. 

 

White coats, needles, red fluid in a vial. 

 

 

"Trashbag!"

 

He whipped his head around to face the flower staring at him from his shoulder. Cautious worry plain on the flower's face. "I called you like three times. Are you ok?"

 

No, he was not ok.

He was staring down the hall he'd walked a thousand times full of pain and fear. A tall, slim figure always at his side.

 

White coats, a pale face, and holes through hands…

 

He let those thoughts fall away from his mind as he pressed onwards. This part of the lab was blissfully dark and devoid of most light. This was where Gaster had constructed most of his Gaster Blaster designs, and worked on getting a fully-functioning DT extraction weapon.

This part of the lab did not give him too great of fear. A lot of the stuff that went on up here hadn’t involved him directly.

Though, he had heard stories of some of the failed DT experiments.

 

He knew most of those test subjects had been put down, too unstable and useless to be of further study… But even as he walked towards the back security gate, he felt as if the shadows watched and moved. Whispers seemed to wisp on the air.

 

 

For once, he was thankful to arrive at the heavy, secure doors that stood at the far end of the lab.

 

Shaking the feeling of eyes at his back, he took a steadying breath. Placing his hand upon the scanner, it lit to life with a groan before flashing brightly. The door buzzed and he cranked the stiff handle down with a grunt, shoving his way through.

 

These halls were too familiar.

His sneakers squeaked and echoed in flat taps as he walked. This world down below seemed dark to him, even with the buzz of harsh, artificial lights. Thanks to The Core, every switch that he flicked brought lights sputtering back to life from their dark slumber…though most were still on.

 

It was eerie how some things remained at a standstill, the air purifier down here keeping things from growing dusty, perfectly preserving everything exactly as it was since that fateful day so many, many years ago.

 

In one room vials still spun in a centrifuge, a test long overdue to be reviewed.

Another, a presentation lie in wait, ready to show the latest findings, the presentee no longer needing to worry about stage-fright.

 

 

“What’s that smell?” Flowey scrunched his face in disgust, covering the place where his nose ought to be.

Sans merely walked faster, too sick to tell Flowey that they were near the cages. Just past the cages lie Gaster’s office, but as they drew closer the smell only became worse. The sickening stench of rot was thick in the air, and it made him gag.

Flowey coughed and made a disgusting sound in his throat. “Trashbag, th-that smells like…”

 

He did not wait to hear those words. He pushed them from his mind immediately. Bolting down an adjacent hallway, he made the quick decision to take another route, trying to outrun the sins crawling on his back.

 

He should have freed them.

He should have come back for them.

He knew they were still here.

He knew…

 

 

“Sans, slow down!” Flowey screamed at his skull, bringing him back from his guilt-ridden flight.

He hunched over, resting his hands on his knees as sweat dripped from his skull to patter on the floor.

“Geez… Are you alright?” The voice at his skull whispered.

 

“heh, what are you, my conscious? heh heh.” He retorted humorlessly, drawing a huff from the flower.

The pissed-pansy ranted about something or other, but as Sans looked up from his hunch, he realized just where exactly they were.

 

Before them was a door. Plain and undistinguished from all of the others.

The only way you’d know who it belonged to was from the neat plaque upon the door:

_Dr. W.D. Gaster_

_Royal Scientist_

 

 

Not wanting to stand around staring at the fucking door, he stormed forward, slapped his hand to the scanner and…

It buzzed angrily at him.

“gah, that’s right…” Gaster’s office was off-limits to him, obviously. He looked to the side, a number pad there. Thinking a moment, he pressed: 3727. Eras.

Was this really going to work-

 

The pad gave a beep, and the doors slid open.

 

 

All was dark, though knowing it was identical to the other rooms, he quickly found the lightswitch.

 

“Wow…what a mess.” Flowey stated with lackluster impression.

Well, a mess was a good word for it. Gaster had had a terrible pension for working faster than his body could keep up, rummaging for a paper when he had a sudden eureka. Most of his raw work was scribbled in margins of other notes, or on the backs of letters, or sometimes on an unfortunate napkin. The desk was covered with hazardous and precarious piles of papers and all manner of things, along with stacks and stacks of folders, files, and books.

 

Sans noted with amusement that one such leaning pile must have fallen sometime over the years, as the papers were sprawled, bent, and folded along the floor.

 

“Where do we even start?” His “shoulder-buddy” stated with a sigh.

 

Honestly, Sans didn’t know. “beats me. how about we divide and conquer?”

 

Flowey whipped his head around so fast, Sans was surprised his petals didn’t come lose. “ _Hell_ no! I’m not letting you leave me behind here!”

 

Sans winced inwardly at the comment, striking that fresh guilt in his soul. To get back at the flower, he grinned wide and said, “heh, no need to be _root_.”

 

 

“Don’t start that.”

 

“ _vine._ ” He said with a shrug, kneeling down to start looking through the papers on the floor. The puns really helped lighten the weight on his soul, and the groans of annoyance they produced from the asshole flower made it all the better. “well, as long as you help, _buddy_ , i don’t _seed_ any reason to _leaf_ you.”

 

With an exasperated growl, Flowey rolled his eyes and snapped, “Just keep flipping through the papers!”

 

 

Stacks and stacks, he flipped through them all, not really sure what he was looking for, exactly.

But Gaster wanted him to find something, wanted him to see something.

 

He sighed tiredly, rubbing hand at his sockets and forehead.

Flowey yawned beside him, petals drooping, surely bored out of his mind.

There wasn’t much Flowey could help with. All of Gaster’s notes were in the symbolic language of hands, and even if Flowey could somewhat read them, Gaster’s unique style of writing made it difficult unless you were accustomed to it.

 

Most of the papers were on his _Living Data Theory_. A side-project that he worked on periodically, but never brought to the King’s attention.

Not many people believed the old loon when he first suggested it, but rather than let his peers pull him down, he began research in secret.

The only other person that knew of it was Sans. And the only subject he was able to test such a closely guarded project on was…you guessed it. Sans.

Well, Sans and himself, of course.

 

 

Still, this wasn’t what he wanted. He knew all of these notes like the back of his hand. Hell, some of this shit was written about _him_ and the effects the tests had on him. Teleportation magic, summoning items outside of the known physical plane, all the fun stuff.

 

He flipped and flipped, and he might have missed it as he grew tired, had an overly-bored flower not spoken up.

“What’s that?”

 

 

“what the hell?”

Sans scooted a few papers out of the way, revealing a small leather book near the bottom of the stack.

 

 

In gold-leaf print, small and fine, pristine in its intricate symbolism was: _Eras._

His fingers shook as he opened the book, the pages within written with much more care, with much more detail.

One of the pages read:

“Our world is one of numbers and figures. I have found that there is a certain underlying “code” of sorts to this plane of existence known as the Underground. I have named this as the _Living Data_ Theory. This _living_ coding has bounds, limits, and strict rules. I have deemed the area in which we reside, and in which these values interact to form what we know as physical and real the _Map of Existence._ My evidence of this starts with…”

 

Pages upon pages of detailed calculations and notes sprawled out after the written statement. Sans would take the time to read it perhaps another time, but for now he skimmed over the text, looking for anything he might need to see. The letter-like writing continued on after a few pages:

 

“Through tests involving manipulation of this code, I have been able to create magnificent feats of science and magic. I have been successful in storing certain items outside of the _Map of Existence,_ and call forth these items at will through the use of magic.”

 

Drawings of Gaster Blasters along with paragraphs and paragraphs explaining their function, creation, and control did not interest Sans. He was well aware of them.

 

“In light of a failed and nearly catastrophic test attempting to transport myself outside of the _Map_ , I decided to test another hypothesis of mine instead.

With enough determination, monsters are found to become physically unstable. Using this to my advantage, I was able to separate a part of my soul. From this a being was made, an entirely separate entity from myself. This partial-monster will be used in testing to come, dubbed Subject 01.

 

Though the subject looks different from myself in regards to their physical make-up, they are identical in certain aspects of myself. With Subject 01 many breakthroughs were made possible.”

 

Sans shook in his seat, feeling rather sick at the drawings that lie before him. Him as a mere inkling of a creature, his soul the only true discernable part. Himself as a baby bones, new and bright-eyed. Himself as a small child, the scowl on his face drawn perfectly.

 

And it only got worse from there. What lie ahead were pages upon pages of tests that he’d been subjected to, the pain and fear blistering in his soul. Gaster was a terrible monster, and one that he hated with a horrible passion.

 

“I had made many attempts to transport myself outside the _Map of Existence_ many times prior. All have ended in failure. While I can anticipate and manipulate the code to allow myself to “jump” between only short areas of the _Map_ , I cannot sustain my stay longer than a few milliseconds. The transport is instantaneous.

 

Test subject 01 has gained the ability to call forth items, as well as shift between the _Map of Existence_. They are able to transport themselves for much farther distances than I had thought possible, however, due to 01’s rather frail nature, they cannot sustain magic to dig too deeply into this ability. And while they can transport they too have the same issues as myself, their ability is more of a quick displacement of code, as opposed to a lasting change. The determination given to them in order to try and sustain such power has been difficult, and nearly resulted in the loss of the subject.

 

In light of this, I created another subject, taking a larger portion of my soul. Test subject 02 is still as of yet too far from full development as I write this, and is unavailable for testing. Though, Subject 02 shows promise. They have a very large reserve of magic (a phenomenon that will be further looked into when they are mature), and their health should allow for easier use of determination.

 

Until such time as 02’s maturation, 01 will remain the primary subject.”

 

 

Hand toying with his collar, a strange mix of feelings in his soul at the drawings of Papyrus. It was sick seeing detailed drawings of Papyrus and himself, details about their traits, their skills…god it was so sick.

Sans couldn’t look at them anymore. It hurt his soul too much. Remembering how poor and frail Papyrus had been when he was younger…not given the care he needed. Hurt so badly from atrocious isolation. Sans didn’t need to see those pictures to remember them.

 

“why?” He spoke quietly to the air. “why do you want me to read this? why do you want to make me suffer?”

Magic trailed from his sockets from his growing rage. The book before him a testament to Gaster’s sins, and to his damnation. “what the fuck do you want from me?” He growled low in his throat, gripping the leather about his throat with knuckle-aching tightness.

 

 

A strange thing happened.

 

The desk fan Gaster kept in his office suddenly turned on, blowing out air with a whir of its blades, kicking up the papers on the desk.

Sans made a sound of surprise and shock, swiping away the sheets that smacked him in the face. As the papers rained around him, he could have sworn in the mass of white there was a hand.

 

The fan turned off as suddenly as it turned on, and Flowey shivered around his neck. “Woah…that was…something else.”

 

 

Sans would have agreed, but his attention focused instead on book in front of him.

Whether coincidence or not, the page that now lie before him read plainly: E.R.A.S. Project

 

Grabbing up the book with a hunger his soul had never known, he held the book close as if it might somehow disappear, the answers so close.

 

“This is a project that I have been researching for some time now. As my earlier calculations of the barrier have shown, no less than 7 human souls will be needed in order to break the intense magic that binds us to the Underground.

 

These speculations, of course, are still true based upon the calculations and small-scale testing involved.

However, there has recently come to light a potential secondary option.

 

From my research done for the _Living Data_ theory, I have found a way to in fact alter the very code of our world. I have thus far been able to manipulate the code of certain areas of space, making unlimited storage possible. More research will be done to see if perhaps energy and certain magic can be-”

 

Sans skimmed through the lengthy cover, not having the time or patience to read of Gaster’s grand plans.

 

“Enhanced Rewriting Autonomous Script, or E.R.A.S., is a phenomenon that I have observed only rarely. It would appear that under very severe circumstances, a monster can alter and even _rewrite_ the code within our world.

 

One such observation was made when Subject 01 was given too much DT during one of the later DT experiments. As with most test involving subjects receiving too much DT, their physical makeup was unable to handle and sustain the different types of magic (see pg.54 Magic and Scripts).

Their body structure began to “melt” as is the only appropriate term to describe the observation.

 

While the experiment was determined to fail due to the conflicting magics, a phenomenon unlike any other was witnessed.

Subject 02 was brought in originally as an attempt to get them to calm Subject 01 (see pg.28 Observed Relationship – Subjects 01-02). This method had helped before in a less serious situation, though by the time Subject 02 was brought in it was found to be a hopeless endeavor due to Subject 01’s progressive failure. However, despite this, Subject 01 responded to-”

 

Sans skimmed along, knowing this. Knowing this. He had been there. He had _felt_ this. He had nearly _died_ there.

What he wanted was at the bottom.

 

“It was here in which the phenomenon occurred.

Subject 02, having been distraught at the loss of Subject 01, had gained a strange sort of aura. A magic unlike any witnessed before emanated from their partial souls. It was in this moment, that I witnessed a joining of souls. While not uncommon among monsters, the major difference in this being that their mere fractions formed instead a whole. A whole soul from parts that did not exist.

 

They had rewritten their code. After further review of the tapes after the fact, it was determined that they, indeed had formed a whole.

 

A whole that was apart from my own soul. Though it was from my soul that they were in fact, formed.

 

Something new had been created from nothing. Something lacking had gained.

 

Through a few small-scale experiments involving lesser monsters, I had found this phenomenon to be repeatable, though only under highly pressured environs and heavy dosages of DT.

 

 

The takeaway from this research has left more questions than answers. But the utterly unbelievable observation is that something can be formed from nothing.

 

Perhaps the greatest nothingness: the outside of _The Map_ can be utilized? Can be turned into something more using the Enhanced Rewriting Autonomous Script?

 

 

Perhaps a human soul can be created?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You still with me after that long-ass chapter?


	40. Chapter 40

 

 

Sans sat a moment trying to take it all in.

 

Rewriting the coding? Is that what that was?

 

 

He looked down at his hands for some reason, as if answers might be found written on their palms.

Magic was something Gaster tried to flesh out, quantify, measure, and control.

Magic to Gaster was only Scripts in the coding, setting into motion an event caused by determinable calculations.

 

He wanted ultimate control over it, manipulate it to his will, exploit its design, possibly gain unlimited power...

 

In a way, he succeeded. The Core, after all, ran off of artificial magic. It ran like a well-oiled machine, pumping out energy from rewritten Scripts.

It was ingenious and pain-stakingly done, though the Scripts themselves seemed simple enough on paper.

 

The problem was forcing them to change. The magic of this world wanted to stay as it was, it's coding perfect and normal. Forcing it to change took a _lot_ of power.

 

 

What Gaster was saying here, with his project ERAS... 

 

Did that mean that he and Papyrus were naturally able to change their magic?

 

 

Thinking back on it, he wasn't sure. 

Monsters could naturally share magic. Gaster called it "lesser rewriting autonomy" in this journal. 

 

Sans had healed Papyrus once...only once.

They had never really been compatible as far as Sans knew.

 

Though, reading back on Gaster's notes from the DT catastrophe...

He didn't remember much from the accident.. Next to nothing beyond blacking out after the pain.

But from the way Gaster described it, it sounded like healing magic to him, but joining of souls?

Gaster would be very tentative of using the rather excited dialogue he had in the record.

There was clearly something more to what happened.

 

 

He sighed, rubbing at his sockets tiredly.

 

 

 

This all just gave him more questions than answers.

 

Why show him this? There wasn't anything Sans could do about it as far as he knew.

 

Why imply the name Eras? Now that he knew what ERAS stood for, he was pretty pissed at Gaster for pushing the name on them.

Cause it didn't make sense to him.

 

Did Gaster really jump into The Core to test out this "ERAS" idea?

More importantly...

 

 

Did it work? How would he know? How would he get back if it did work? What use would it have?

 

Sans stopped the scientific part of him. The puzzle was interesting, he would say that, but it didn't matter to him.

 

 

Getting up from the table, he stirred the flower on his shoulder awake. "Hmm? Ugh, are you done yet?" Flowey groggily snapped at him.

He just woke up and he was already an ass.

 

"yeah...i think..." Sans answered unsuredly. 

 

Flowey grimaced at the uncertainty in his voice, "You _think_? Well, what the hell did you find?"

 

 

 

"shit you wouldn't understand." Sans waved him off, looking around the room dully.

 

Flowey left him in silence. A silence that Sans was thankful for. 

 

His skull was pounding from all the questions, and it made his shoulders feel heavy from their unseen weight. 

An item, bizarrely out of place in the room made him pause.

 

Getting up from the chair, he ignored Flowey's questioning as he went forward to examine a bowl, precariously perched on an open filing cabinet.

 

 

"Eew, don't pick that up!" Flowey exclaimed as Sans picked it up anyways. "Gross, are those instant noodles?"

 

Gaster never ate these...

 

 

Blinking incredulously at the out of place thing, he nearly dropped the bowl as he looked within the filing cabinet.

 

Empty vial-holders lined the insides of the drawers, once precisely pressurized and humidified. There were many cabinets like this in the lab, used to secure the precious few drops of determination.

 

 

And they were gone.

 

 

 

"w-where?!" Sans started, the bowl clattering to the ground. As he looked with fresh eyes, untainted by his anxious search for Gaster's message, he saw that the mess was not a mess, but a ransack.

 

Files lay open, and as he scrambled forward to look into some of the more horrific experiments he found that pages were missing from some of them.

 

" _no_!" He roared, kicking a pile of papers in his rage, his skull pounding and soul straining in his chest. 

Someone had taken those papers, someone had read them, had taken the determination.

 

And no-doubt tried to continue Gaster's failed work.

 

 

How did they get in here? Who?

 

 

 

A sudden thought hit him like a punch to the skull.

 

Alphys.

That weebu from the lab. The new Royal Scientist. She had stacks of these bowls around her desk...hadn't she?

 

And being the Royal Scientist, she might have gotten a bit of pressure from the ol' Highness to perform, huh?

After all, Asgore was infamous in his: "you're either useful or you're dust" mantra.

 

Who _wouldn't_ take advantage of such brilliant (mad) work just lying about with no owners to claim it?

 

She didn't know what she was getting herself into. 

And, oh, Sans was gonna have a talk with her. _A_ _real, good, long talk_.

 

 

 

"H-hey! There's something on the floor!" Flowey's annoyingly sweet voice broke him from his angry musing, his nasal ridge scrunching in disgust at a lone, glowing vial on the floor.

 

"Is...is that?" Flowey asked, but quickly seemed to stop himself from saying more at an incredulous look from Sans.

"do you know what the fuck that is?" Sans growled, narrowing his sockets.

"It-it looks like a...like a glow stick!" Flowey said with a too-innocent smile.

 

But Sans wasn't an idiot. This flower knew more than he let on.

"sure. a glow stick." Not wanting to take a chance of someone else finding the shit, Sans crouched down.

 

With shaking hands and sweaty palms, he carefully, oh so carefully, picked up the vial of determination. There was only a small amount within, most of it was diluted with magic...

 

But the power within was palpable all the same.

 

 

Taking steady breaths in and out, he put the vial in his pocket until he could figure out what to do with it.

 

"You're keeping it?" Flowey asked with a blink of surprise. "What are you going to do with it?!"

 

Sans shrugged, giving him a toothy grin. "it’s just a glow stick, right?" Letting the magic fade from his sockets, he made sure Flowey knew he could see through his bullshit. "do _you_ happen to know what i should do with a glow stick, _buddy_?"

Flowey shut up, and Sans felt his marrow churn. This guy was hiding something alright.

 

"time to head back." Sans stated as he got back to his feet.

 

"got a nerd i need to talk to."

 

 


	41. Chapter 41

 

 

You watched in terror as the robot stared you down, weapon charged and ready to fire…

Suddenly, the weapon hums to a stall as Mettaton flicks a look over his shoulder to growl at Alphys. “IF I HAVE TO PUT UP WITH YOUR SHIT, ALPHYS, THEN I _AT LEAST_ GET TO PUT THIS ON THE AIR!”

 

The scientist groaned and took out her phone. “F-fine, if it will get you to s-stop complaining.” After tapping a few commands, cameras seemed to pop out of the wood work…as if this sort of need for attention were quite common. The lights of the lab went through a slow fade, dimming for dramatic effect.

 

“Frisk,” Betalin whispered, tugging on your arm. “Quick, let’s go before-”

 

Mettaton whipped his weapon away to quickly snap into position, just before the limelight’s glow.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, BOYS AND GIRLS, HAVE I GOT A TREAT FOR _YOUUU!_ ”

 

As Betalin pulled you along, the spotlight flipped over to blind you. “WITH OUR SPECIAL GUEST, THHHHHE _HUMAN_!” Mumbling, he added, “And their friend.”

“THAT’S RIGHT, FOLKS! THE LAST HUMAN NEEDED TO OPEN THE BARRIER, RIGHT HERE AT MTT- I MEAN OUR _HOST STATION_!” The robot stalked over to you both, a toothy grin that was far too pleasant on his face.

“D-don’t come any closer!” Betalin stammered, pulling you close. You gripped onto him out of reflex and fear, not sure what was going on.

 

Mettaton’s smile twitched before he gave a (rather fake) laugh. “HAHAHA! YOU’RE A FUNNY ONE AREN’T YOU? A REAL KIDDER.” That cheerful voice faltered into a growl as a microphone seemed to whip out of thin air in his hand. “SO, TELL US, WHAT’S IT LIKE BEING THE ONLY THING BETWEEN MONSTERS AND FREEDOM?”

He nearly shoved the microphone in your face as he pressed you for answers, “DON’T YOU FEEL _AWFUL?_ KEEPING US ALL TRAPPED HERE WITH YOUR SELFISH WANT TO LIVE! HOW _TERRIBLE!_ ”

 

You buried your face into Betalin’s shirt, tears pricking at your eyes. You didn’t mean to do anything wrong…

 

But you were doing something wrong. Your very existence is wrong. You mess with these monster’s lives. That’s the nature of it. That’s the nature of you. That’s the nature of humans, to be vile and awful and ruin the innocent.

But you already knew that, didn’t you?

When you started this adventure, when you fell down that hole, when you came to this awful place…

You _knew._

There are no happy endings. Not here, not anywhere, and especially not for you.

After all…

 

_We’ve been through this before._

 

 

Tears fell from your eyes, staining your shirt as you sobbed. The small voice in your head was so mean, so cruel, but inexplicably true.

 

So then, the only real thing that we can do is RESET.  


You look at the menu before you, large letters so final and precise ask you if you want to go through with this decision. The fear in your heart, the sadness in your eyes, the weariness in your bones…

You should just start over.

 

 

Arms that wrap around your middle startle you, and you look down to see an uncertain skeleton. Eras peers up at you with fear in his sockets and a small whimper sneaking through his teeth. He shivered at the scary flashing lights and loud sounds, holding onto you for protection and safety. Somehow he’d gone all the way from the bed over to you all on his own! Poor little thing, he must be really scared! You hug him close and pat his head gently.

 

A pesky little thing. Nothing to bother with. He would be gone and forgotten once you reset-

 

You close the menu and hug him back, both giving and receiving comfort from the small sentiment.

 

You make the mistake of deciding to continue, holding your “friend” close. Foolish determination sparking in your chest. And while you feel that you are strong and can be brave for your new “friends”, for Sans, Betalin, and Eras, it just is not true!

They are ruthless creatures, spurred on by humanity’s ills. Once you help them leave the Underground, they will merely turn on you.

Your own little friend will _chew on your bones_!

 

 

Frisk shrugs, ignoring the voice that nags at them. Taking out their Tutu, you shimmy it on, and go forth to face Mettaton.

 

He blinked down at Frisk, confused by the human’s sudden confidence. “O-OH… A TUTU, DEAR? ARE YOU PLANNING ON DANCING-?”

 

Frisk strikes a pose, the best ballerina pose you can manage with a smile.

 

Taken aback by the strange turn, but not to be outdone by a human, Mettaton retracts his weapon and poses right back. “DARLING, IF YOU THINK YOU CAN WIN THIS WAR OF GLAMOUR YOU ARE _DEAD WRONG._ ”

From the sidelines, Alphys groans loudly. “Mettaton, what are you doing?”

 

Not breaking from character, Mettaton flashes her a grin and another flaunting pose. “MY DEAR, ALPHYS! I WILL VANQUISH THIS HUMAN WITH _STYLE!_ ”

Another groan is all Alphys responds with as Frisk makes a move of their own, doing a little shimmy and shake, before nodding to Mettaton in challenge.

 

Mettaton is too good, he is graceful and fabulous in every way, he somehow sneaks glitter into his hands and tosses it in a dramatic display of raining razzle-dazzle.

 

Pouting, Frisk tries to think of something they could do…

Getting an epiphany, they take hold of Eras’ hands and pull him over with them into the spotlight. He is shaky and seems nervous, but after Frisk gives him a demonstration of how to pose with a silly grin, he joins in. The small skeleton copies them and giggles at how funny they look.

 

The ratings soar from their adorable display, apparently the residents of the Underground liking the refreshing bit of programming.

 

Not put off by the dynamic duo of cuteness, Mettaton tries to regain his popularity with a sensual act. Frisk covered the young skeleton’s sockets with their hands, turning away with a heated blush burning their face.

Apparently the viewers didn’t care much for Mettaton’s act…or they’d seen it all before.

 

 

Taking Eras’ hands from his face and holding them tight, Frisk swished and danced them round with giggles and laughs.

The ratings skyrocketed, and even Alphys took out her phone to take a quick picture of the small human and monster child stealing the show.

Breathless from their lighthearted dancing, Frisk gives their friend a quick hug of happiness. The little skeleton seems to be having a lot of fun, and Frisk is actually starting to as well! They could almost forget that Mettaton was trying to kill them.

As the ratings continue to go up and up, Mettaton looks at the screen with growing conflict. He seemed both a little upset and a little excited about the popularity his show was receiving.

 

Frisk waved at the robot to get his attention and holds out their hand with a sympathetic smile. Maybe they could be friends?

 

 

Mettaton blinks in surprise at the gesture, a bit taken back. “MY, WHAT AN…UNEXPECTED TURN…” He pauses a moment, before returning to his show-host tune. “HOWEVER, YOU MUST DIE! AFTER ALL, ITS WHAT THE VIEWERS WANT! BUT DON’T TAKE MY WORD, LET’S HEAR IT STRAIGHT FROM THE HORSE’S MOUTH!” He addresses the camera with an award-winning grin, “CALL IN NOW AT OUR STUDIO NUMBER AND HAVE YOUR OPINION HEARD BY ME, YOUR MAGNIFICENT HOST!” A dial-tone sound comes on over the speakers, and Mettaton perks up. “WELL WELL WELL, THE EARLY BIRD GETS THE WORM AS THEY SAY! HAHAHAHAHA! YOU’RE ON THE AIR, DARLING, GO AHEAD AND TELL US WHAT YOU THINK-”

 

A voice that you think you recognize comes on the speakers, roaring loud enough to make Frisk wince. “Do _not_ kill that human!” A tired, strained, though gentle female voice demands. “Do not listen to what the others say! This human is kind and sweet, and they have been nothing but merci-”

Mettaton cuts her off. “LOOKS LIKE WE LOST CONNECTION, OH DEARY DEAR! OH DEARY ME! WELL, SEEMS LIKE WE ARE HAVING “TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES”... BUT THE SHOW MUST GO ON!” 

 

With a roar of whirling mechanisms and the whine of engines, his hand reforms into his weapon. He grins that toothy grin that Frisk has come to fear, a menace to his eye. “LOOKS LIKE ITS CURTAINS FOR YOU, _DARLING_!”

 

 

“NO! WAIT!” A swish of movement was all Frisk saw before a familiar friend blocked the children’s view of their oncoming doom. “Stop! Alphys! Tell him to stop!”

 

Alphys, who had been watching silently from the sidelines, suddenly was put under the pressuring lens of the camera. She fumbled with her phone in her hand, nearly dropping it in her nervousness. “M-Mettaton! G-Get th-those damn cameras off of me!” She shields her face, a bright blush creeping across her cheeks.

 

The cameras flash back around to Betalin as he speaks again, “Alphys! This is wrong! This human is good! I know it, they’ve never hurt anyone as long as I’ve known them! Look how comfortable Eras is with them, look at how even with the threat of death, they refuse to fight!”

Betalin’s glasses glinted in the light, the eyes behind them hard and determined. “Alphys, you have to believe me-”

 

“Why should I?!” His sister screamed suddenly. “I’m tired of your bleeding heart, Betalin! This has to be done! You always think there’s some easy way out but there isn’t! Sometimes for progress to be made you have to do things that are wrong!”

“Two wrongs don’t make a right!”

“D-don’t g-give me that fortune-cookie bullshit! You a-always do this! You always th-think you can just run away!” Her voice grew thick. “Y-you run away and l-leave me with the mess so you can keep your h-hands clean! Well, n-not this time…” Alphys pushed up her glasses to rub at her eyes with the heel of her palm. “I-I won’t let you…d-do that to me again.”

 

The two siblings stood in silence, before Betalin made his way forward and wrapped her in a hug. “Alphys, I’m…I’m so sorry.”

“They hurt all the time, Betalin. The amal- the abonminations…they want to go home but they-they,” Tears fell from her eyes, staining Betalin’s sweater. “Th-they can’t! I can’t let them, and I keep l-lying to them to tell them it w-will all be ok, b-but it never is! It never will be.”

Betalin held her close, apologizing and crying right along with her. “I’m sorry, I was so scared. I didn’t know what to do. I shouldn’t have left you like that. I’m so sorry, Al.”

 

Mettaton watched, sniffling to the cameras, “OH YES! WHAT A DISPLAY! TRULY HEART-WRENCHING! AND, OH MY, THE LOVE OF A BROTHER COMFORTING HIS SISTER…SO TOUCHING!”

He whirled around suddenly, his weapon charged and ready yet still. “WE’VE HAD A GOOD BIT OF DRAMA THIS EVENING, LOVELY VIEWERS! AND NOW I THINK ITS TIME FOR SOME _BLOODSHED_!”

 

Frisk cried out in fear as they held Eras tight, knowing that they were done for.

Betalin’s scream of protest was all the human heard before-

 

 

A loud sound of screeching metal and an agonized cry made Frisk look up from where they cowered.

 

Mettaton fell to one knee, clutching at a bone impaled through his chest. “AGHH! W-WHAT?!”

 

“heh heh heh, _show’s over_ , pal.”

Frisk turns to see Sans, standing protectively behind them, magic flaring from his socket.

Eras whips around in Frisk’s arms to look back at the owner of said voice. “Da!” He cries happily, wrenching out of Frisk’s grasp to latch his arms around their savior’s leg.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Looks like he got here in the nick of time.

“Da!” Eras’ tired, red eyes brightened, his mouth curling into a huge, nub-toothed smile as he heard his father utter his warning. Little arms wrapped about his leg, the small skeleton crying with happiness and loss, so upset and yet happy as well. It took every shred of Sans’ will to keep from scooping him up then and there.

“Hey, daddy-bones! You might want to keep your eyes on the homicidal robot!” The flower on his shoulder grabbed his skull and turned it towards Mettaton, who looked just the part.

It helped Sans swallow his need to hold Eras down. In its place, a burning need to protect.

He would get his little reunion after this metal fucker was taken care of. “hey, pansy.” Sans said as he kept his sockets trained on the metal monster. “watch the kids for me. and uh…don’t let ‘em watch, ok?” He spoke with sincerity and soul. It was all he could do, and hope the two would be safe.

Without another word, the flower did as he was asked, surprisingly, gone from him only to pop up on Frisk’s shoulder once more. “Come on, Frisk, get Eras and lets go!”

He deafened himself to Eras’ cries as Frisk pulled him away, knowing that him being with the human was safer than here with him. He focused instead on the flash of charging cannons, the robot panting with unbridled fury. “heh heh, just you and me, pretty boy.”

 

Mettaton loosed a low, distorted growl, his many eyes flicking up to hold him in a spiteful glare. “HOW. DARE. YOU.” He hissed, a rage burning in his eyes. Mettaton gasped in pain as he grabbed the bone lodged in his chest and wrenched it free with a scream and mess of sparking wires.

Getting up from his kneel, he whipped out weapons from his other arms, the guns charging.

 

“heh heh, glad you got that _off your chest._ ” Sans looked him over with a grin, poised and ready to throw his ass into the goddamn ceiling once he tried to pull something. “your move, diva-”

When the robot suddenly turned on his heel and pointed his guns at Alphys, Sans flinched in surprise.

Gasping, Alphys stammered, “Mettaton, d-disengage!”

The killer robot flipped his hair with a whip of his head. Still those guns stay pointed despite her command.

“M-Mettaton, I said to _disengage_!” Alphys cried in fear, punching desperate prompts into her phone as Betalin clung to her in fear.

 

The robot gave a flashing grin to her, a cruel joy in his eye. “HAHAHA! IT LOOKS LIKE MY AGRESSION STABILIZER WAS BROKEN.” Plunging a hand into the gaping hole in his chest, he grit his teeth and hissed as he tore out a piece of hardware smoking and stricken through, and threw it at Alphy’s feet.

The scientist stared dumbfounded at the device before she gasped, the weapons pointed at her fully charged. “ _EAT IT, BITCH_.” Mettaton laughed, his hair a tangled mess as stray oil matted it to his face.

 

Alphys and Betalin screamed in fear before the beam unleashed from the gun, bright and roaring with enhanced magical manipulation.

 

 

Sans was quick to act. Grabbing the two lizard monsters’ souls, he threw them to the side. The beam cut through the place they had been only moments before, incinerating everything in its wake.

He cast out a field of bones, smashing up from the floor, shattered pieces of tile raining down with the tinkle of tile on tile. The heavy robot was not quite so agile as he looked, and the bones hit him hard.

The show-bot screamed, cameras rolling as he fell back on his ass.

 

 

“FUCK YOU!” Mettaton screamed, cannons shooting out a blast straight for him.

The beams incinerated the place where he’d been, nothing but soot and ash upon the smoking tile.

Little did he know Sans was a master at dodging. “heh heh heh!” He crowed from behind the robot, making him spin around, only to be thrown back by a flick of Sans’ hand. “better give it up, Mett, or its _curtains_ for you.”

With a growl, Mettaton attacked, again and again.

And again and again he missed, the small skeleton too fast.

 

Sans conserved his magic, not getting too cocky with his attacks. This could be over shortly, if he’d use _those_ weapons… But from the looks of it, he wouldn’t have to.

Mettaton’s form was unstable, the mechanical monster dripping oil heavily, his arms having difficulty keeping the deadly-yet-heavy cannons up. Smoking from overexertion, he laughed humorlessly as he looked over at a nearby screen. “HAHAHA! THESE ARE THE BEST RATINGS I’VE EVER GOTTEN!” He smiled dully as he saw just how many people were tuning in. It looked like nearly the whole Underground was watching; bloodthirsty and craving excitement.

 

Seeing an opportunity, and not one to pass it up, Sans flashed up a single bone from the floor, hitting the bright vessel which contained Mettaton’s soul. Magic spilled forth from the crack, spurting heavily as Mettaton tried to stop the flow.

The robot screamed in pain, shooting Alphys a damning glare. “ALPHYS! YOU FUCKER!” He roared, clutching at his broken and bleeding center. Wincing, he grew quieter as more pink began to seep through his fingers to splatter upon the lab floor. “I never asked for this.”

The robot fell to his knees, his eyes growing dim as his soul fluttered tiredly in its draining vessel. “I only wanted…to entertain.”

He fell forward into a heap, seeming dead to Sans, but it was hard to tell with this guy. Who knew how much of him was monster and how much was machine?

 

 

Alphys rushed forward, kneeling beside him. “Mett? Mett?! Mett, if you can hear me, I-I’m switching you off!” With a flick of a switch, the robot still lie unmoving.

 

None of that mattered.

The small skeleton running and screaming towards him from behind was all that mattered. Frisk came running after, apparently the little shit had squirmed away from the human. They looked on as Eras threw his arms around Sans, this time in happy reunion. And Sans held him close. “heh, hey little guy. ya miss me?”

The small skeleton hiccupped and sobbed, gripping onto him tightly. Even as Sans comforted him, he still would not let go, and Sans could not help the warm feeling in his soul.

 

The human stood idly by, shifting on their feet shyly, not really sure of what to do or say. They looked around the lab with queasy fear, taking in the mess and gore of the battle.

 

It made his soul hurt to see the kid so upset. “hey.” He called, drawing their attention away from all that awful shit. “c’mere, kid.” He said, holding out his arm to them.

The small smile they gave to him as they joined in the embrace…yeah, he felt pretty good about it.

 

 

However, this moment was not to last long.

The vial in his pocket was fresh on his mind, and his sockets locked onto that yellow fucker that decided to try playing god.

 

Kneeling down, he hugged Eras tight. “hey, little guy, why don’t you and Frisk go play, huh? Alphys has toys laying around everywhere.”

The small child shook his head at the sound of separation, gripping him with a whimper, but Sans could not comfort him as he wanted. Not yet. He’d make it up to him one day, but right now… “Flowey?”

 

“What, trashbag?” Flowey snapped, though with less of a bite than normal. Heh, guess they were making some progress, huh?

“i gotta talk to Alphys.” Patting the vial in his pocket pointedly, he had a feeling that Flowey would get it. He knew a hell of a lot more than he let on.

Starting to speak, the flower seemed to change his mind, and replied with a sigh. “Fine.”

 

 

Sauntering over to Alphys, hands securely in his pockets, he cradled the red poison with all the care of one would with Pandora’s Box.

Alphys sat tinkering on the metal-man on the ground, Betalin holding her as she sobbed. “It’s ok, Al. He’ll be fine. His soul is intact-”

Sans decided to break the ice with a goddamn sledgehammer. “maybe some DT extract would help?”

 

 

Alphys turned with a gasp, a haunting look upon that scaly face of hers.

And Sans stood, taking the vial from his pocket to put on display as he growled, “what the hell did you do?”

 

“I-I…” Alphys shook, tears building in her eyes only to fall as she choked on a sob. “I’m sorry!”

Still, Sans pressed her. “what happened to them?”

 

“They, fell apart. I-I couldn’t read the papers, so I j-just went by the calculations. They’re…they’re… _abominations_.” Betalin pulled her close as she wailed, turning an accusing stare at Sans.

But Sans was less concerned with that, then what her statement implied. “they’re…alive?”

“I think that’s enough! Please leave her alone-”

Alphys sniffled lamely at her brother’s chest. “If you can call them alive.”

 

Sans was intrigued. The problem with Gaster’s work was that things didn’t tend to live long through the DT process. Sans was an exception only due to Gaster’s extreme caution and years and years of tolerance build-up. Monsters just couldn’t handle determination.

But, if she had actually kept some alive…

 

“let me see your notes.”

 

 

\-------

 

 

Though Betalin was against it, Alphys helped Sans look over her research.

Her work was sound, and Sans felt a chill up his spine at the potential her findings arose. Was this what Gaster wanted? Was this the key to ERAS?

While the monsters had lost their overall form according to her findings, they were alive. More so than alive, their stats had been altered to incredible and baffling degrees. If she had been able to get them accustomed, if she had been able to train them on her serum’s strain, if she’d had funding, time, and a loyal team…she might have cracked what Gaster could not.

 

The vial in his pocket grew heavier by the moment, and it weighed heavy on his skull. Should he…try this himself? Would this work? What if it did?

Mulling it over, Alphys looked to him, tapping her claws nervously before asking. “D-did you want me to look at that DT? Th-that is i-if you want. You seemed so interested i-in it.” She paused a moment before going on. “I’m r-really glad to hear that they’re…better off than what you said h-happened t-to…” Letting that drop at that, she instead went about tidying up her desk to help with her nerves.

She’d warmed up pretty fast to him, even though he’d been less than kind at first. After he praised her for her ability to keep the amalgamates alive, and in fact thought that her solution was the only thing to _keep_ them alive to begin with; it was like he’d lifted some kind of burden from her shoulders. She straightened out, her eyes grew bright, and she’d sniffled something awful as she fought back tears.

 

Alphys was a smart cookie, he’d give her that.

 

Thinking a moment, he handed over the vial of DT. “if you could, that’d be great.”

While he didn’t plan on using it, having something less lethal on hand would be a great relief to his soul.

 

 


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its been a long fucking time. I know. Next chapter will be longer. Gotta dip back into this shit.

 

 

The woods were his sanctuary. With long, thin, boney limbs he blended in with the twigs and branches of the scraggly trees. The shadows and dappled flecks of minuscule light hid him easily. If one were to see him, they might catch a glimpse of a piece of tattered cloth, or perhaps a flash of red light that was easily blinked away, but no more.

Papyrus shifted between the rustling branches, the wood quiet save the breeze that tickled the trees. 

Soul aching with hunger, he made his way towards town, thankful for the closeness of the natural cover to the residential area. 

He could steal food. He could try to make his way inside one of the small houses...but with his magic so low it would be risky. Deciding against that thought, he left his cover to press against the cold surface of a nearby home, eyeing the trash bins round back. This was less of a risk.

It was deplorable what he was about to do, but truly he shouldn't care. He held no status anymore, had no reason to fear the taint of humility. Besides, when he and Sans were younger they lived off such scraps.

 

He scrunched his nasal ridge as he opened the first metal bin, the scent of rot too strong from this one to be safe. Moving on to the next he found that it wasn't so strong as the last. Taking a quick glance to be sure he was still unseen he rummaged through the garbage as quietly as he could. There were some vegetable tossings, parts he had learned when young that were indeed edible. Though slightly wilted and tasting of the slimy beginnings of rot, he was able to get it down. He hated eating trash. Always had. When he was younger he had promised Sans that they would never have to eat trash again when he became a royal guard. Technically, he'd been right. For all his time in the guard he had kept them safe, clean, housed, and well-fed.

Now look at him.

 

Fishing a half-eaten sandwich out of the grime, he picked away parts that seemed molded and ate without tasting. Look at him eating garbage again, surviving off meager slices of bread and lesser, unpalatable parts of meat and veggies. 

He was pathetic. He was a fallen traitor. He had turned his back on everything that he'd worked so fucking hard for. He had thrown it all away. The glory, the honor, his duties, his respect, his accomplishments and goals and dreams. 

Biting into what he thought was a decent tomato, his teeth sunk in sickly, the juice squelching upon his chin. Hissing in anger he spat the bile out into the snow, his mood as sour and rotten as the revolting garbage. He tossed the shit back in the pail.

Look at him fucking starving to death, bones rattling with tiredness... And for what?!

For something he hadn't asked for.

For something he had _never_ wanted. 

This should not have happened to him. He hadn't wanted Sans to engage him in his heat. He had never wanted Sans to come in as he had. And what was the result of his brother's carelessness?

Something that should not have been possible or conceivable to begin with!

 

It was all a mistake.

Eras was-

 

Papyrus paused, feeling ill at the thoughts in his skull. Magic overflow burned at his teeth, but he forced it back. He leaned against the building a moment as he pressed his skull to the cold brick, letting the chill ease his anger. 

He sighed, guilt seeping into his soul. 

No, he hadn't asked for this. No, he hadn't wanted this. But he refused to think about it as something detestable. Papyrus refused to think of it- 

Once more he wanted to retch at his own thoughts. It?! No, this was no "it" his mind had turned on in rage. This was Eras. He knew it, and he refused to think of Eras as...as a mistake. And he certainly wasn't about to go blaming his child either out of self-pity.

Papyrus could have ended all of this before it had ever begun, back when he had first saw that growing soul in the mirror. He had stood and contemplated, he had readied and steeled himself to end the unwanted pregnancy. 

But he didn't. And as soon as he made that decision the choice was his. Eras was his. Sans had forced this situation upon him, yes, but Papyrus had ultimately made the choice himself. First and foremost, he had come to terms that his child was his responsibility with or without Sans. And because of this, logically speaking, Papyrus had no right to feel that Eras was a mistake. 

Had he ever wanted to have a child? Certainly not, but Papyrus loved Eras very much. He loved the child more than he ever could have imagined.

So no, he hadn't expected the pain and turmoil, the tears and strange bonds that came with them. Papyrus didn't expect such weaknesses in himself to be brought to light, but he was stronger for having met them. He was stronger because of this unexpected occurrence, for this strange little family that had blossomed despite the odds.

 

A sound caught his attention: snow crunching underfoot.

Papyrus whipped his skull around, his magic too low to usher an attack, but still he raised his fists. He caught sight of a figure in his peripheral, and his arm flew forward to deliver a bone-crushing punch-

He missed as the monster that had been there mere seconds before fell, tripping on their own feet in fear. 

Looking down, his sockets widened at what lie frozen in the snow: a child. Two large eyes stared up at him in horror, their entire frame shaking. Their mouth hung open, mute as they watched Papyrus with wheezing breaths. The pitiful creature was entangled in their own torn, striped smock, unable to get free without arms. 

It was rare to see a child. So much so, that Papyrus had to blink away his initial shock. It was a wonder this particular monster had made it as long as it had. Such deformed monsters were often found deep in the wood, frozen stiff, surrounded by their afterbirth, rejected by their mothers. No use investing time, health, resources, and care into a creature that would fall. 

Yet, this cripple was alive. Even more striking was the fact that it survived and it was an orphan. It was obvious with such tattered apparel...surely they would have been picked off before this age with no caretakers? Not to mention the fact that they lacked any means of self-defense.

 

They shivered under his scrutinizing gaze, grunting and whining low as they struggled to kick their feet free of their torn clothing.

It was clear that they would need assistance to disentangle their legs. He should put the thing out of its misery. Papyrus could make it quick and painless for the scrawny thing. It looked to be all skin and bones for fuck's sake, a quick end was a far better way to go than starvation. 

But when he saw their lip quiver and tears begin to glisten in their eyes he could only think of his own child in their place. "Oh goddamnit." He sighed to himself sourly. He really was letting these feelings get to his better judgement. Papyrus squatted beside them in the snow, the child loosing a small sound of fear. "Shh." He hushed them, reaching forward to help them free their feet. "I won't hurt you."

The armless monster whimpered, trying to squirm away from his grip. They were smart enough to not scream and draw attention to themself at least, but still they were being too noisy for Papyrus' liking. "Be quiet, or someone less forgiving will come." He whispered to them, finally getting the monster's legs free as he tore away the hanging shreds that had tripped them.

The monster child was quick to shove its face in the snow, pushing its body up to bring them back on their feet before they took off running. They bolted into the trees with a warbled gate, hiding behind a protective tree. And there they remained, having gained enough distance to be safely out of Papyrus' reach, but close enough to observe him. 

 

They would probably end up dying, but he supposed his conscience was clear for the moment. He let them be and continued his rummaging. Drawing in a steadying breath, he steeled his reserve. With determination, he attempted to get his magic and health to an acceptable level.

Looking over his shoulder, he caught sight of the monster kid ducking behind their tree. Grumbling to himself, he put some food into the trash bin's lid, the flat surface becoming a sort of makeshift plate. Balancing a generous portion of food, he set it down by the tree line and then left. 

It was time he headed to Undyne's.

 

 


	43. Chapter 43

 

The caverns of Waterfall, normally soothing were now nothing but a potential hazard.

Everywhere was.

A traitor, an outcast, and now a mass murderer; Papyrus was a doomed soul. He stood before his former-commander’s home, looking on. Attuned to the slightest sound, the smallest breath of danger, he found the coast to be clear for the time being.

 

Undyne had said she wanted to help, but how true could that be?

Hands clenching at his sides, he debated with himself for the thousandth time. What if this was a trap? What if she really did want to help? Would he survive on his own? Would he survive even with her company for that matter?

He was going to have to take this fight to the top, he was going to have to cut off the venomous head of this snake, he was going to have to face the King.

Papyrus knew that it had to be done. There was no other way for his family to be allowed to live. But at the same time, he might not even live long enough to make it so far.

Deciding, he made his way to the enemy’s door.

He knocked, the sounds hollow and final as sweat beaded his brow. His eye shifted about, he strained to hear. And when that door opened, he nearly jumped out of his proverbial skin.

 

“Papyrus!” Undyne boomed, the door opening wide to him. The fishwoman was all grins and smiles, but of course that could be a front. He came in, feeling eerily similar to the last time he had come in through that door.

But Undyne gave him his space, backing away carefully. “Hah, its ok, Pap.” She raised her hands in proof of her innocence as he closed the door behind him. The house appeared empty. It was well-lit so that nothing could hide in the shadows. The broken window to his left was covered with boards for temporary protection and would allow no one to enter except noisily.

It seemed safe. However, Papyrus would be a fool if he relaxed.

Undyne went over to her kitchen as if nothing but friendliness lie between them. She picked up two tea cups and set them on her table with a pot of steaming tea. “Here, I know you aren’t doing so well.” She sat and motioned for him to do the same.

Huffing, he did, eyeing her suspiciously.

She poured a cup for herself, and then for Papyrus.

“You said you knew where Sans and Eras were.” Papyrus cut to the point, eager to be on his way.

The fishwoman nodded, carefully sizing Papyrus up. “Yeah, they were at Alphy’s lab the last I heard.” Placing her phone on the table, she let it sit as an offering. “You can call her to see if you want. Her texts are in there too from just a couple of minutes ago as well.”

He pondered it a moment, and then went to take it-

A loud banging sounded upon Undyne's door. 

Papyrus jumped in his seat, recoiling from the phone as a gruff voice called, "Captain Undyne! Open the door! We have urgent business with you!"

 

Papyrus flashed a glare to Undyne, magic crackling on his palm. " _Liar_." He spat with a hiss, to which the fishwoman raised her hands in surrender. 

"Pap, I don't know anything about this!" She flicked her eye to the door, the pounding growing louder. "Go fucking hide somewhere before they break down the door!" 

"WE KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!" The voice outside the door bellowed. "WE'LL, LIKE, BREAK DOWN THE DOOR IF NEEDED!"

Papyrus looked about in panic, the window was boarded up, and the sparse room did not hold many places to hide.

" _CHRIST_ , I'M COMING!" Undyne roared to the door before whispering to Papyrus, "Squeeze your skinny ass in a cupboard or something moron!"

Not needing to be told twice, Papyrus dove into a cupboard, folding his skeletal body as best as he could into the small space. Roughly yanking his leg to his chest, the door to the cupboard closed just as the front door opened.

 

He kept his breathing even and shallow, listening to the others.

There was the sound of heavy, armor-clad feet upon the floor, reverberating in the small house. He raised his brow as he heard the sound of table legs squeaking and furniture being moved.

"Hey! What the hell are you two doing?!" Undyne snarled.

"We have orders to search the premises for the traitor Papyrus."

"Well, you aren't going to find him here!" Undyne huffed. "Who gave you permission to search _my home_ anywa-?"

The unseen guard had the audacity to interrupt her. "Like, don't play dumb. We have word from a reliable source that you spoke with him over the phone not long ago."

Papyrus' marrow chilled. They knew? How could they have known he had spoken to Undyne? His soul stopped in his chest, the feeling of his phone in his pocket sharp in his awareness. Were their phones tapped?

 

"And who would this reliable source be?" Undyne spat. "I'd like to cut out their lying tongue!"

"That's totally not a question we are, like, privileged to answer." A quieter voice informed, the other guard finally speaking up. "We have our orders. Right, bro?"

"Right, bro." His counterpart barked.

"Is that fucking so?" Undyne growled. "Well then, maybe you can answer this question, _soldier_ : who sent you? Unless His Majesty is keeping secrets from his own Captain."

The rougher voice answered for his companion, his voice dripping with venom. "That's also a question we can't answer, Undyne."

Papyrus narrowed his sockets. Undyne? What soldier would dare call her-

The sound of magic crackling in the air and a flash of green set forth a catalyst of motion. Metal slid upon metal as swords were drawn and armor clinked into movement. 

" _Captain_ Undyne." The fishwoman spat, the menace in her voice unmistakable.

 

The air was thick with silence, so permeated was it that Papyrus dare not breath.

Until the gruffer guard laughed. " _Captain_ Undyne. My bad. Huh, what's this?"

"That's my phone, dumbass." Undyne hissed suddenly. "So, claws off!"

"Nice find, dude." The other, softer-spoken guard admonished. "Our source claimed that you had talked with Papyrus on your cell. Like, if you don't know where he is you could try to call him for us. No big deal, right?"

Papyrus stiffened, knowing full well what they were trying to do. He tried to shift enough to get at his phone in his back pocket, trying to turn it off...when the wood of the cupboard creaked.

Covering his blunder, Undyne ignored the sound and sniffed, "Your source is full of shit, flop-ears. And even if I do call, he isn't going to answer me. He hates my guts."

"Then you've got nothing to lose." The softer voice chimed. "Well...aside from a certain egghead."

The house went quiet.

Far, far too quiet.

 

This had flown south fast. 

He couldn't reach his phone when he was cramped like this to turn the damn thing off! Papyrus shifted in his hiding place, trying to ready himself into a crouch. There was no way Undyne would choose him over Alphys. After all, he'd be damned if he himself chose Undyne over Sans.

"Fuck you two." Undyne hissed at the guards as the inevitable sound of his phone's chipper bleep rang painfully loud in the tense room.

_*beep beep b-deep*_ sounding from the cupboard in which he hid.

His cover blown, he shoved himself out of his hiding spot, falling to a heap on the floor. Thoughts bombarded his soul in quick succession, his soul pounding with their fury. There were two guards in the kitchen by the table. The window was boarded. The guards were standing in the way of the door. With his magic low, he couldn't risk an attack. There would be no hope of sprinting past either. But, the way they stood by the table...

Without another thought he pounced off the floor, ran forward, and flipped the table up at the guards, not taking a second to glance back as he made his way to the door. Sounds of surprise echoed around him as he slammed his shoulder into the sturdy door with a crunch before barreling outside.

 

His feet pounded the dark earth, his socket trained on the path ahead, he needed to keep running. 

"GET HIM!" A guard bellowed from behind. Papyrus kept steaming ahead...that is, until a large pillar of fire-magic shot forth from the ground before him. With his HP so low he slid to try and change direction, but cried out as something suddenly shoved him forth. The flames parted but he was not spared a rocky outcrop as he was pushed from behind. The wind left his chest in a rush when he came to an abrupt, rattling halt upon the rock. Though dazed, he turned expecting assault. Sure enough, claws reached for him. 

He locked hands with the hefty guardsman with smoke trailing from his helm. The dragon monster growled low in his throat, boxing Papyrus in slowly against the boulder. Try as Papyrus might, he knew he was exhausted and the other was too strong. This was nothing but a game he would lose. 

Grunting at losing sweat-laden inch after inch of ground, Papyrus grit his teeth and flashed out his leg to catch the other in the groin. 

"THE FUCK, DUDE?!" Though not hurt, the surprise was all Papyrus needed. Latching around the guard's leg with his own he jerked it out from under him to fell the scaly monster.

When the guard clanked to the ground Papyrus attempted to make his escape. However, the dragon was determined: his sharp claws grabbed Papyrus by the ankles and drug him back through the dirt. "Goddamnit!" Papyrus gasped and coughed as hands grabbed at him roughly and forced his arms back. "Get the fuck off of me!" He strained as his arms were quickly apprehended. Kicking and squirming as hard as he could to knock his attacker off.

 

The feeling of imminent panic began to settle in when he found he could hardly writhe under the other's grasp. His soul floundered in his chest, his skull spinning with hate and fear.

They wanted him alive. Why? Well, it could only be for vicious means. Cruel torture awaited him, though his tongue would be kept intact. Yes, he'd live long enough to betray the only allegiance he still held. 

Sans. Eras. They would be killed from his weakness. 

Papyrus knew the King. If Asgore wanted to keep him alive it was only to make Papyrus wish he hadn't been.

 

He could practically see his own thoughts mirrored in Undyne. There was no winning for him. Even if she did help him kill the guards it would be impossible for her to explain to whomever sent these guards that Papyrus had gotten away from her. She was the Captain of the Royal Guard. And because of this the Captain of the Royal Guard could only stand watching her fallen Lieutenant writhe, the rabbit guard at her side eyeing her for weakness. Despite her knowing Papyrus' plight, she stared down at him with a careful deadness he had seen many times over. There was no compassion for traitors and in this he was truly alone.

The feeling filled him with a primal fear and raging will unlike anything he'd felt before. He felt his bones shake and his soul shiver behind his ribs. Magic not unlike fire burned in his marrow. Like a dimming spark clinging to a dead leaf his soul caught flame.

Papyrus bucked hard causing the hands holding him to slip, the other having a hard time finding purchase on Papyrus' smooth bones. Taking advantage of this boon, he wrenched out from the guard's grasp he whipped around and smashed his fist into helm and scaly crests. "GAH!" The guard cried in shock as Papyrus got to his feet to run once more. The rabbit guard sprang into action then, readying his weapon.

 

Papyrus was not going to let himself be caught. And if he was going down, he was sure as hell going to make a mess of things.

Magic blazed in his socket and flashed into his palm. He called forth sharpened stakes of bones from the earth, the guards shouting at his sudden vigor.

"Shit! Stop him!" The rabbit hollered, hopping out of a red bone as he commanded it from the earth. "He's gonna drain his soul, dude!" 

The dragon guard was quick to rush forward, his sword raised.

A calm had swept over the skeleton as he faced him, drawing out his long bone without a wince. His gaze only focused on the enemies before him. He clashed with the dragon guard, fighting with reckless abandon. The long bone groaned and splintered from the impacts, the magic deteriorating from the stress he pushed into it. He poured more magic forth, the bone blazing bright in the dark of Waterfall.

The dragon guard huffed with smoking puffs, grunting as he tried to keep up with the ex-Lieutenant. He gave no recess, his humeri shaking as he gave a sharp cut to the other's off-hand. He struck true, nicking the guard's side. Though the guard took the pain well, the other was not as experienced and left himself wide open in his surprise. 

 

Papyrus readied his attack to strike him through when hands grabbed him roughly from behind. So focused was he, that the unexpected assault made the weak grasp on his magic falter and sputter out.

"CAPTAIN!" The rabbit guard wrangling Papyrus screeched, "We could use your help, dude!" The dragon guard was quick to aide his partner, yanking Papyrus' hands behind his back. 

"NO! NO, FUCK!" Papyrus roared. Thrashing and writhing, he was slammed to the ground. Like a Roman candle he had burned bright, but when the two guards used their weight against him he was snuffed. Until a scream pierced the air.

"GRAHHH!" The dragon pinning him roared, weight upon his frame lifting instantly from the outcry.

Shuffling around in the dirt he could see the guard holding his bicep in agony, a terrible wound caused by a powerful attack. Broiling blood simmered with wet plops out of the guard's damaged armor, the green spear that had pierced it standing proudly in the dark earth before dissipating. 

"B-BRO!" The rabbit monster was quick to feel instead of think as all rabbits do, casting aside his helmet to crouch beside his partner. "A-are you okay, bro?" Healing magic lit the surroundings while they argued and bickered amongst themselves. Papyrus all too eagerly got to his feet to flee before they finished, but stopped.

 

There stood Undyne not a few paces away, a cruel grin of sharp teeth upon her face. 

"YOU CRAZY BITCH!" The dragon guard fumed when he caught sight of her.

The rabbit snarled with a rage unbefitting his kind, "YOU COULD'VE, LIKE, KILLED HIM!"

"Oops. My bad." She said flatly, ignoring the guardsman. Her good eye turned to Papyrus, staring him down. "Must've missed...this time." Magic flashed onto her palm, a green spear forming into a deadly tip.

Her warning was all he needed. The only promise needed to get his tired legs moving and chest heaving with panting breaths.

He grinned with the sort of giddiness only one kissed by death can wear. There was nothing to stop him, nothing to slow him down in the flat realm of this land. He dared not even look back, feet pounding the earth and femurs burning, he bolted dead ahead-

 

Something snagged his foot and he went flying end over end in the dirt.

Dazed, he tried to get up and found something was caught on his feet. There had been nothing there! There had been _nothing_ and there was nothing around! He reached down to try and free himself, his phalanges brushing along something thin and translucent. While trying to tear himself free of the string the guards had caught up to him. He stretched out his hand, fingers curling to call forth a final attack. His magic sapped his health, his vision going dim as he readied to cast.

He hissed as a weak attack smacked his hand just before he loosed the attack, canceling it. "Bastard!" Dazed, he was hardly aware of the hands shoving him to the ground. "Stay down, goddamnit!" The dragon guard snarled as he roughly smashed his knee down into his spine. A strangling gasp of pain wrenched from Papyrus' teeth as stars blinked in his vision. "Fucking ungrateful-"

"Watch his HP! We can't exactly use his dust, bro!" He heard the other guard threaten, his voice labored and huffing in exhaustion. The dragon guard holding him down merely grunted in response, winding a strangely thin...wire about his wrists. While he was being bound, the other came round to stare down at Papyrus. Given the time now to see him, Papyrus recognized the rabbit: an old trainee of his. Buck-toothed and always on the verge of a smug grin, he certainly was one Papyrus did not wish to see. And that infuriating-bunny monster crouched before him, smirking as recognition bloomed on his former trainer's skull. "Heh, nice to see you again, Sir."

Papyrus would have hissed in spite had his skull not been forced into the dirt, coughing instead as dust kicked up. "Just kill me!" He hacked, turning his skull to glare just as a cloth was pressed to his face. Struggling, he tried not to breathe as the fumes burned at his nasal aperture and eye. 

"Heh heh, if it weren't for my orders it would be my pleasure." The dragon rumbled behind him.  "Just fucking take it and get it over with, asshole." 

Even as Papyrus was able to pull himself away, the guard pinning him down roughly gripped his skull, thick claws scraping at his bad socket. A gasp from the pain, a ribcage full of fumes and his skull was spinning. His vision was going dark, his soul tingly and warm from the noxious chemical on the cloth. Giving a final attempt to struggle he shuddered into a world of darkness.

 

 


End file.
